


Thunder Road

by tankcupcakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:33:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8727484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tankcupcakes/pseuds/tankcupcakes
Summary: Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.
> 
> Characters: This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC
> 
> Warnings: Language and marijuana use for the whole story
> 
> A/N: I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.

_**January, 1978** _  
_**Lawrence, Kansas** _

 

“ _Free will is an illusion.”_

Michael’s words in his father’s voice rang over and over again in Dean’s head.

 _“It’s not random. It's not chance. It's a plan that’s playing itself out perfectly._ ”

As he and Sam climbed the hotel stairs to the suite - the one that Cas was still hopefully passed out in - they seemed to echo louder.

_"That’s why you're going to say yes.”_

He wouldn't.  
He couldn’t kill Sam, and he certainly couldn't accept that this was his destiny. To become an empty shell that the angels would use to wipe out half of the planet?

No chance.

After Michael had healed Sam, he was gone with the snap of his fingers - and so were John and Mary, memories presumably wiped.

Confused and weary, Dean and Sam had ambled down the dark road until a passerby had stopped to give them a ride back into town.

They hardly spoke a word to each other, certainly not about what had just taken place - but when they got back inside the room, they saw Castiel was awake and Dean recounted his conversation with Michael to both of them.

Sam said nothing, but Cas watched Dean carefully from a seated position on the bed. “I hate to say it, but Michael’s not wrong, Dean. This is -”

“If you say ‘my destiny’, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind,” Dean replied, cutting him off as Castiel looked a little guilty - those were obviously the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

The three of them were silent for several moments, the brothers sitting in chairs across the room from Cas.

Dean rubbed his temples, a small sigh escaping him.

“Is it, though?” Sam spoke finally. “They all seem to think we’ll say yes.”

“They're wrong,” Dean said sharply, shaking his head. “I won't. And I’m tired of talking about _destiny_ and _plans_ \- I can make my own decisions and so can you, Sam.” He jabbed a finger in his direction. “And you too, Cas.”

Castiel nodded his head with a thoughtful look on his face and Sam watched Dean with a solemn expression.

“So, what do we do?” Sam asked after a moment.

“Figure out how to get the hell out of here,” Dean replied.

 

=

 

About a week had passed and it became clear that Castiel’s power had not been restored enough to get them anywhere - let alone back to 2010.

He didn't necessarily seem _unwell_ , but it was clear that he didn't have the same angel juice that he had before their trip to 1978.

The five days that they had paid for the hotel had passed and their next move was a touchy subject.

“We _have_ to get back,” Sam pressed, hands wrapped around a coffee mug as he sat at the small table in the corner of the room.

“I’m with you, Sam,” Dean replied from the edge of the bed, looking and feeling exasperated. “ _How_?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply before closing it again, glancing over his shoulder at Cas, who was staring silently out the window.

All they had done over the past five days was stay inside that hotel room, endlessly trying to figure out a solution to their problem, coming up empty each time.

Castiel had tried every trick he could think of, but it seemed his power had drained almost completely. They had exhausted all of their current options.

The idea of venturing out into the world, thirty years in the past, seemed daunting but Dean had done it before.

“I don't think we should stay in Kansas,” Dean said slowly, after several moments of silence.

“Where would we go?” Sam asked.

“Anywhere,” he replied, shaking his head. “But Mom and Dad are still here, we can't…” He wasn't sure exactly why he felt like they had to leave, but it was a strong feeling.

Sam must've had a similar inclination, because he only nodded and didn't press any further.

There wasn't anything to pack - they had nothing.

The three of them made their way out to the car they had acquired and decided to go east - where exactly, they still weren't sure.

Castiel had explained to them previously that time in the past didn't pass the same in the present - a year spent in 1978 only equated to a couple of days in 2010.

It didn't really make sense, but not much in their life did.

With the impending doom of the apocalypse on hold, for the first time in a long time, Dean felt freed from his responsibilities.

Truth be told, he wasn't in a hurry to get back.

After a few hours, they stopped in Iowa to get something to eat, but when the brothers got out of the car, Castiel stayed put.

“Cas?” Dean said, poking his head back in. “You coming?”

“This is my fault,” he said, gazing blankly through the window. “I never should have brought you here.”

This was not the first time they’d had this conversation and Dean wasn't sure he could have it again.

“Well, it's done, okay?” He opened the door for Cas, who reluctantly climbed out. “We’re here and so are you.”

They had stopped at a mom and pop diner, and as they walked inside, Dean had to bite his tongue to stop from commenting on everyone’s appearance. He shared a look with Sam, who smirked and it was clear he was having similar thoughts.

Janis Joplin’s _Maybe_ played quietly in the background, and they took a seat in an empty booth.

A woman in bell bottoms came by with a pot of coffee in one hand and three mugs in the other. She took their order and complimented Sam’s “groovy” jacket, to which he bit back a laugh and smiled politely.

“I don't know if I can use the word ‘groovy’ in casual conversation,” he said when the waitress walked away and Dean chuckled.

“Come on, Sammy - you just need a little practice. Tell her that you think her earrings are ‘far out’ when she comes back.”

Sam snorted and took a sip of coffee, shaking his head a little.

The two of them ate their late breakfast while Castiel continued to gaze into space, clearly trying to come up with something.

After paying for their meal, they made their way back out to the car and merged back onto the two-lane highway.

“How far east do you guys wanna go?” Sam asked, leaning his seat back a little to get comfortable.

“What d’you think, Cas?” Dean asked. “Any place you ever wanted to visit?”

“I’m not sure,” Castiel replied. “I think our best bet is to-”

Raising his eyebrows and waiting for Cas to continue, Dean tilted his head lazily back to look at him, but jolted when he saw the empty backseat.

“Cas?!”

Slamming on the breaks, Dean pulled over to the side of the road as the car screeched to a halt, meeting eyes with a bewildered looking Sam.

They both looked around the otherwise unoccupied car.

“Where did he go?” Sam asked, poorly concealed panic in his voice.

Dean opened his mouth but no words came out.

He pushed his door open and stepped out of the car, walking back several yards to where Castiel disappeared.

He paced around the area for a moment before looking back to the car, where Sam now stood as well.

He raised both of his arms, a clear “now what?” gesture, and Sam’s shoulders slumped as he shook his head.

After calling for Cas several more times, they both climbed back in the car.

“What should we do?” Sam asked quietly after a moment.

Shaking his head, Dean shrugged. “I don't know - what _can_ we do? Stay here and wait for him to show up again?”

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess that's our best option. He knows we’re here, I think we should just stay put.”

He was right. Dean nodded too, the weight of the situation sinking in slowly. They would have to stay and wait for Castiel - in Iowa, 1978.

“We could be here a while - you heard Cas, a day in the present is like, a year here,” Dean said, giving Sam an uneasy look. “Are we gonna be here for a year?”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.
> 
> Characters: This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC
> 
> Warnings: Language and marijuana use for the whole story
> 
> A/N: I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete

**_January, 1978  
Cedar Rapids, Iowa_ **

 

Walking into their new extended-stay motel room, Sam made a sound of disgust.  
“This carpet…”

It was a strange shade of orange, the kind of shag pile carpet that was popular at the time.

Dean chuckled, collapsing on the corner of one of the beds. “We've stayed in worse.”

Considering this, Sam shrugged and nodded as he looked around the room.

“Maybe this won't be so bad,” Sam said thoughtfully, sitting too. “Things were simpler then - I mean, now…” He stopped and shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. “This is confusing.”

Offering his brother a sympathetic half smile, Dean nodded. “Yeah… yeah, it is."

They sat quietly, both feeling lost and out of place, both putting on a positive face for the other.

Sleep did not come easily for either of them - they lay silently in the dark room for hours, staring at the ceiling as their minds raced around their current predicament.

In the morning, Dean woke first, forgetting for a moment where he was, but a brief glance around immediately reminded him.

He got a pot of coffee brewing before taking a shower, pulling on the same jeans and shirt that he had been wearing for the past week.  
They had the opportunity to wash them a few days ago, which they had done, but they would still need to go get some new clothes - this was their new home for the time being.

Dean had never been more relieved to see flannel shirts - there was a lot of questionable fashion going on here, but plaid was on the rise.  
So were bell bottom jeans, unfortunately. He had bought three pairs.

It had taken the better part of two weeks for them to really accept it - they had gotten the new threads, celebrated Dean’s “not-birthday” on the 24th at their new favorite restaurant, and wandered around the town, exploring - but they still felt like maybe this was a dream they would wake up from.

It wasn't until Sam accepted a job at the bookstore downtown that it began to feel real.

“Man, I guess this is really happening, isn't it?” Dean had said absently after Sam told him this news. “We live here now.”

With a wry smile, Sam nodded. “Yeah, I think so, Dean. We don't really have any other choice.”

They acquired a second car when Dean began working as a framing carpenter for a contractor who was building a new subdivision one town over.  
Building the frame work on homes was not something Dean had ever done, but he was a fast learner and familiar enough to pretend to be experienced - and in a small amount of time, he was an expert.

It had been just short of three months gone, and Dean was still trying to get used to all the mustaches and spandex.  
More than this, he was trying to adjust to no hunting - there hadn't been so much as a mugging since they’d arrived in Iowa.

That was the only life that he had ever known, and taking a step back proved difficult - he still approached situations carefully, never fully letting his guard down.  
He had met some interesting people, but was unwilling to allow himself to make friends.

This was only temporary.

Not to say that Dean didn't have some preferred acquaintances - there were several people he favored in his new life.

Todd, the old hippie who owned the bookstore, The Dusty Bookshelf, where Sam worked was a personal favorite of Dean’s.  
Once he got going, he would talk to them for hours, telling them all about how he used to live in New York City and all of the protests he had been part of - the last one he was involved with was a large rally protesting the Vietnam War almost a decade ago. It had landed him in jail, though not for the first time, but he had been injured in this encounter, and after he got out, he moved to Iowa to settle down.

Dean was also fond of a guy he worked with, Jeff - he was an interesting cat who was shell-shocked from the war. He'd only been back from Vietnam for four years and was a little bit of an alcoholic, but he was a pretty funny guy. They had shared several beers since Dean had started working with him.

As he learned more about this time from first hand experience, Dean had been lying about his age to explain why he hadn't gone to Vietnam - the draft lottery for the war would've sent him in 1969, so it was either lie about how old he was or make up a disease that he didn't have.  
So, in 1978, Dean was 25 again.

There was an older woman who was a waitress at the diner he frequented, Peggy. Dean had a soft spot for her too.

A temporary soft spot, anyway.

As he walked into the motel room, he was greeted by a delicious, but rather aggressive smell.

“Hey!” Sam said happily from the table in their kitchen area.

He was rarely in so good a mood. “Hey,” Dean replied cautiously. “Good day?”

“Yeah, I had a great day, actually - and we got free dinner.”

There were takeout containers absolutely covering the table.

“Free dinner… for the month?” Dean asked with a chuckle as he sat next to him.

“I know, it's a lot - an Indian restaurant just opened across from the Bookshelf, and the couple who owns it came by with a shit ton of food.” Sam’s plate was half empty already, at least five assorted things on it. “I forgot how much I love Indian food,” he said with a sigh.

Dean smiled to himself but didn't say anything else as he made himself a plate.

Sam had done a lot of blaming himself since they'd been in Iowa, his demeanor surly most days. He was far more determined to make it back to their own time, feeling responsible for the turmoil in 2010.  
Dean was past trying to make him feel less guilty about it - there was no point, carrying blame was something the Winchesters did best.  
He was glad that Sam had a good day, even if it was only over Indian food.

“Oh, and get this - I also found a weird old book today with some surprisingly accurate information on angels,” Sam continued and Dean’s food turned to glue in his mouth. So, Sam’s good day wasn't just due to Indian food. “I'm hoping something in there can help us.”

“You think some secondhand book in Iowa will have angel time traveling information that Cas didn't have?” Dean wished he could take the words back as soon as they left his mouth, and Sam’s face immediately had a scowl on it.

“Yeah, Dean, you're right - I guess I'll just sit here and do fucking nothing instead -”

“Whoa, Sam - I didn't mean it like that -”

“You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you _want_ to stay here,” Sam said bitterly, pushing his plate away and crossing his arms.

“Of course not -”

“Yeah? Well, you could've fooled me.”

“Fine, Sam - you want the truth?” Dean asked, putting his fork down. “Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so terrible. Certainly can't be any worse than what's waiting for us in 2010.”

Sam was watching him carefully now, his anger appearing to ebb away. He sighed, but Dean continued before he could speak.

“I mean, what's so bad about this?” he demanded, but there was an edge of desperation in his voice. “All of the Beatles are alive! I can buy a six-pack for less than two bucks. I could go see Pink Floyd in concert _tomorrow_ , for Christ’s sake!”

“They actually just wrapped up a US tour last summer, you’d have to go to Europe. Or wait for a couple years for them to release _The_ _Wall_ ,” Sam replied casually after a moment, and Dean looked at him, bewildered. “I read it in the paper, I'm just saying.”

“That's not the point, Sam,” Dean said, taking a deep breath. “I guess, I just… It’s nice not worrying about all of the things we normally have to worry about.”

Sam’s face conveyed understanding - he knew how his brother felt because part of him felt it too. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“And I know that we will have to go back and deal with everything,” Dean replied, starting to eat again. “But I won't pretend that I don't like it here.”

Sam only nodded in response and they finished the rest of their meal in silence.

 

 


	3. C

  
Summary: Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.  
  
Characters: This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC  
  
Warnings: Language and marijuana use for the whole story  
  
Word Count: 1,400  
  
A/N: I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.  


  


__**April, 1978  
Cedar Rapids, Iowa**   
  
  


  
Midwest weather was beautiful.   
  
The spring and autumn never lasted long, but when they were in full swing - man, there was nothing like it.   
  
It was early afternoon and Dean had gone about an hour south to check on the price of some lumber in another town.   
  
He was about halfway through his journey back when a loud _pop!_ startled him and it was quickly apparent that he had blown a tire as a dull _thunk_ -ing sound continued.   
  
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, pulling to the side of the road.   
  
Climbing out of the car, he opened the trunk and swore loudly when he realized that he had neglected to put his set of tools back inside.   
Now what?  
  
It was times like this that he really missed the present - a cellphone would be pretty helpful right about now.   
  
He looked up and down the practically deserted highway and sighed.   
Hoping that maybe he had a jack hidden somewhere in there, he began to rummage through the trunk to no avail.   
  
A car honked somewhere behind him and he looked up to see that an old Buick had pulled up beside him, windows rolled down, Bruce Springsteen floating from the stereo.   
  
_ The highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive,   
Everyone’s out on the run tonight, but there's no place left to hide _

  
“Need a hand?” the woman inside called, and he took a couple of steps toward her. He could tell as soon as she opened her mouth that she wasn't from Iowa, she spoke with a slow southern accent.   
She wore sunglasses with round white frames, stark contrast to her long, chocolate-colored hair.   
  
_ Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness, I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul… _

  
He bit back a smartass comment - who knew when someone else might come along? “Well, I don't know - you wouldn't happen to have a lug wrench in there, would ya?” He noticed too late that there was still a sarcastic note to his voice.   
  
She raised one eyebrow at him, a smirk on her face as she turned down the music. “Oh, so you don't think I have tools because I'm a woman?”   
  
Shit.   
“No! No, not because you're a _woman_ …” he stopped, a sheepish grin making its way to his face, and he shook his head. “Actually, yes - sorry, that was an asshole assumption. Do you…?”   
  
“No,” she answered, laughing loudly - a contagious sound. “But, I can give you a lift.”   
  
__ Oh honey, tramps like us,   
Baby, we were born to run   
  
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he considered it briefly, before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”   
  
Pulling open the passenger door, he climbed in, a little wary but mostly relieved.   
  
“Where to?” she asked.   
  
He thought about it for a second, knowing that Sam was probably at work, and he would need his car to get back to his own to replace the tire. “You know the Dusty Bookshelf, in Cedar Rapids?” he replied and she nodded. “Great, thanks for the ride.”   
  
“No problem,” she said, shifting her car into drive as they began down the road.   
  
“Springsteen, huh?” he commented after a moment, leaning back in his seat.   
  
“ _Yes_ ,” she answered emphatically, a smile on her face. “I love him.”   
  
“I can get behind The Boss,” he said with a grin as she laughed again. “I’m Dean, by the way.”   
  
“Evelyn. Eve - or Evie.”   
  
“Nice to meet you, Evie,” he replied. “Not that I'm complaining, but didn't your mama ever tell you not to let strange men in your car?”   
  
“Nope,” she answered, another smirk on her face.   
She reached into her center console and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lifting a neatly rolled joint from it.   
  
God, he loved the 70’s.   
  
“You wanna light that up for me?” she asked, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding the spliff toward him.   
  
“Gladly,” he said, an almost childlike grin on his face as he took it from her and did just that.   
  
The drive back to Cedar Rapids was about thirty minutes, and the weed had Dean feeling chatty.   
  
“So, where are you from?” he inquired. “Not here, I assume.”   
  
“Right outside of Savannah,” she answered, “but, I've been here just shy of 12 years now. You?”   
  
“Kansas,” he replied, internally scolding himself almost immediately for telling her the truth. Not that it really mattered, anyway - here, he wasn't even born yet.   
  
“You're not too far from home.”   
  
“Yeah, just needed a little change of scenery, I guess.”   
  
“I feel you,” she said, nodding.   
  
He decided it would be in his best interest not to say much more - he was still making inappropriate references as he acclimated himself to this time period.   
  
Instead, they listened to music with the windows rolled down on the near empty highway, the breeze surprisingly beautiful for an early spring wind.   
Dean caught himself nodding his head in time to the music, his foot tapping as well.   
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips - he felt _good_ , really good for the first time in years.   
  
He would have to invest in some cassette tapes for his car - one of the few things he would allow himself to do in the way of making a home here in Iowa.   
  
He had gotten the clothes more out of necessity than wanting to buy more appropriate things - all he and Sam had were the clothes on their backs.   
  
There was no attempt to make the hotel room they were renting any cozier, but there was a growing pile of books on the table that Sam had brought home after work.   
  
The car stopped and Dean jolted a little - he hadn't even realized they weren't on the highway anymore.   
  
“This is you, right?” Eve asked, sunglasses sliding off as she peered out his window. She hung them on the collar of her shirt, and he could see now that her eyes were a dark blue.   
  
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding. “Listen, thanks again for the ride - I really appreciate it. Can I give you gas money or anything?” He was sure he had a few bills in his wallet at least.   
  
She shook her head. “No, we’re square.”   
  
Dean chuckled with a shrug. “If you're sure.” He climbed out of the car and after he closed the door behind him, he leaned back through the open window. “You live around here?”   
  
Eve smiled and nodded her head. “I do.”   
  
“Maybe I’ll see you around, then.”   
  
“Yeah, maybe you will,” she replied with a wink. He couldn't help but grin in response, and she replaced her sunglasses as he took a step back from the car. He patted the roof a couple times and she pulled away from the curb and took off down the street, music playing loudly once more.   
  
Still smiling a little to himself, Dean opened the front door to the bookstore, greeted with the jingling of the bell attached to it.   
  
Sam looked over from the shelf he was stocking and tilted his head a little. “Hey man, everything okay?”   
  
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, everything's fine, I blew a tire on highway 30 and I had forgotten to put my tools back in my car, so I had to get a ride. Wanna swing over there later so I can fix it?”   
  
“Sure, my shift ends in about an hour,” he said, placing more books on the shelf. “We can go right after that.”   
  
Dean nodded and took a seat in one of the many chairs in the store, drumming his fingers absently on the arm of it.   
  
The only sound in the otherwise empty store was the rustling of Sam pulling and pushing books to and from the many rows of bookshelves, but after several moments of silence, he spoke again. “Dean, you sure you're okay? You're pretty quiet.”   
  
“Sam, honestly - I am awesome. I feel great. I feel… groovy.”   
  
Sam gave him a deadpan stare. “You feel ‘ _groovy_ ’?” he repeated.   
  
“Yeah - I think I totally get where that word came from now.”   
  
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Dean - are you stoned?”   
  
Dean gave him an offended look and thought about feigning shock, but instead, he scoffed. “Sam, it's 1978 - of course I'm stoned.”   
  
Letting out a loud laugh, Sam grinned and shook his head, but said nothing else.   
  
  
  
  


  
  



	4. C

**Summary** : Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.  
  
**Characters** : This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC  
  
**Warnings** : Language and marijuana use for the whole story  
  
**Word Count** : 1,650

**A/N** : I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.

 

 

__**April, 1978  
Cedar Rapids, Iowa**   
  
  
  
This was the fifth day in a row that he had woken up with that _goddamn_ Bruce Springsteen stuck in his head.   
He hummed it in the shower, heard it while he drank his coffee.   
  
There was a record store called the Love Garden a couple blocks from the bookstore, he’d driven past it several times, and it was his first stop today, his day off.   
  
As he stepped inside the shop, he heard the Temptations’ _Papa Was a Rolling Stone_ fade out and David Bowie’s _Golden Years_ begin to play. He felt overwhelmingly, and not for the first time, like he belonged here.   
Iowa, 1978.

He shook his head, a smile creeping on his face at the absurdity of it all - but there was a shadow in the back of his mind, desperately trying to remind him not to get too comfortable. He pushed it further back.

“Hey, brother,” a young man with long hair and a goatee called from the behind the counter. “Can I help you find anything?”   
  
“Thanks, man - I'm just browsing,” Dean answered, wandering between the rows of records.   
  
“Right on, let me know if you change your mind,” he replied, going back to fiddling with a broken record player.   
  
After winding in and out of the records, he found the cassette section and began casually scanning through them.   
There was a lot of disco and he rolled his eyes - there was something he could do without.   
He started plucking the interesting tapes and before he realized it, he had a stack of ten.   
  
Deciding to stop himself before he got too out of hand, he headed to the checkout.   
  
“Find everything alright, man?” the guy with the goatee asked, and Dean nodded.   
  
He laid them all out on the counter - Creedence, Led Zeppelin, the Doors, Joe Walsh, Bruce… - and Goatee started writing them up for him.   
  
Pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, Dean flipped through the dollar bills there, hearing a door open as someone else joined Goatee from the back room.   
  
“I heard that’s a good one,” a Georgia drawl said, a finger tapping the Born to Run deck.   
  
Mouth immediately dry, Dean froze and shifted his gaze to the familiar face, a crooked smile on his own. “Yeah, I heard that too. How you doing, Evie?”   
  
“Oh, just living the dream, Dean,” she replied, leaning on her elbows with a lazy smile.   
  
“You work here?” he asked, though the answer to that was already apparent with her behind the counter.   
  
She nodded.   
  
“Hey, any friend of Evie’s is a friend of mine,” Goatee said, reaching a hand out to Dean, who shook it.   
  
“Roger, this is Dean,” Eve said, gesturing between the two of them with her index finger. “Dean, that's Roger.”   
  
“Nice to meet you,” Dean said, offering a polite smile.   
  
“You too, man - I’m gonna give you a discount…” He started scribbling on the receipt.   
  
“Oh, no - you don't have to do that,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’m happy to -”   
  
“I insist,” Roger replied, not looking up from the paper he was scratching on.   
  
Dean looked back up at Eve, shrugging. “I won't argue with you, I guess.”   
  
She smiled and shrugged back in response.   
  
Shifting weight from one foot to the other, Dean glanced briefly around the room and then back at Eve, who still had her gaze fixed on him.   
  
He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling his stomach flip over as he opened his mouth to speak. “Listen, I, uh - I don't want to be too forward or anything, but…”   
Why was he hesitating? He had asked his fair share of women on dates.   
She made him feel something different.   
  
At this point, Roger glanced up at him and a crooked smile was spreading across Evie’s face.   
  
“No, that's okay,” she said, crossing her arms, her smile growing bigger. “Go ahead, ask me out.”   
  
He chuckled. “Okay, would you wanna have dinner with me?”   
  
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Yeah, that would be nice.”   
  
“Great,” he replied, wearing a smile of his own now. “You free tonight?”   
  
“I get off at 6, if you wanna swing by here?”   
  
“I’ll see you then,” he answered, nodding.   
  
Roger, who had watched this entire exchange with a wide grin, handed Dean his cassettes in a bag.   
“Don't have her out too late.”   
  
“Alright, Roger, can it,” Eve said, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. “I'll see you tonight, Dean.”   
  
  
  
=   
  
  
  
Dean had putted around town for a few hours after that, then went back to the motel to shower and get ready.   
  
When he pulled up to the curb outside the record store, Eve was already sitting outside, smoking a cigarette on the bench.   
  
He rolled his window down, calling out, “Am I late?”   
  
She shook her head, stubbing her cigarette out on the ground before standing and walking over to the car. “Right on time,” she replied, opening the door and taking a seat. “So, Roger wanted me to tell you that he’s in a Led Zeppelin cover band and they're playing tonight, if we wanted to go after dinner,” she said with a laugh. “I think he’s desperate for audience members.”   
  
Dean chuckled and nodded. “Sure, we can do that - I love Zeppelin.”   
  
“I had a feeling you might,” she answered, winking at him. “His friend David sounds just like Robert Plant, they're actually pretty good.”   
  
“I guess I’ll have to hear it for myself,” he replied with a grin, turning into the downtown area. “Hungry?”   
  
“Starving. Did you have a place in mind?”   
  
He didn't really, so after a brief discussion, they ended up at a bar and grill - burgers in front of both of them, immersed in conversation.   
  
She was 27 -  her father had died at war when she was young and her mother remarried about a decade later, prompting the move to Iowa. She had a teenaged sister, Kate, who lived with Eve’s mom and stepdad a few towns over.   
She wasn't what he would call a hippie, but he had a sneaking suspicion her mother was - Eve was very much a product of the flower child age.

"I like your pendant, necklace thing," Dean said, gesturing to his own neck. "Is it a marble...?" It kind of looked like it had been one once, it was blue glass with swirls of gold, but it was smashed almost flat.

"Oh!" she said, laughing as her hand closed around it. "Yeah, it is a marble - it's kind of silly, actually. When I was kid, back home my grandpa owned a marble factory. I was watching him one day and accidentally dropped a heavy book on some of the marbles that weren't cool yet. Ruined the lot of them, in case you couldn't tell." She laughed again. "He made one into a necklace for me and I never took it off."

He smiled back at her as he listened.

She seemed so authentic when she spoke, obviously comfortable with herself, and Dean felt as though she were a magnet.

He had never met anyone like her, and the way she talked compelled him to tell her about himself as well.  
  
He told her about his life, as close to the truth as possible. That his mother had died in a fire, his father after a car accident - all the facts without the supernatural details.  
  
After they were done eating, they walked down the main street through town to the bar that Roger and his band were playing.  
  
A deep bass resonated in Dean’s chest as they stepped inside, the music already pouring through the speakers.  
 _  
If it keeps on rainin’, the levee’s goin’ to break  
When the levee breaks, I’ll have no place to stay_  
  
Eve let out an emphatic groan, clutching her chest. “This is my _favorite_ Zeppelin song.”  
  
Dean nodded in agreement, the two of them ordering drinks and taking a seat at a table in the half full bar.  
  
“Do you have a favorite?” she asked, speaking loudly above the music.  
  
“It's a tie,” he called back, leaning closer, “between _Ramble On_ and _Travellin’ Riverside Blues_.”  
  
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don't think I know that one - which album was it on?”  
  
Dean quickly realized the song he was talking about hadn’t been released on an album yet and he gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, you know what? I’m thinking of a live cover I heard them do - it’s an old song from the 30’s.”  
  
Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, you've seen them in concert? Was it last summer?”  
  
“Yes,” Dean lied quickly, nodding. “Yeah, last summer - it was far out.”  
Smooth.  
  
She laughed and nodded enthusiastically. “I bet!”  
  
They spent the next two hours singing and laughing themselves hoarse from their table, now several drinks in.  
  
The slow guitar strumming signaled the beginning of another one of Dean’s favorites, and he leaned his chin in his palm, elbow on the table.  
  
He watched her sitting across from him in the dimly lit bar as she lit a cigarette, a lazy smile on her face as she mouthed the words.  
  
 _Made up my mind to make a new start,  
Going to California with an achin’ in my heart  
  
Someone told me there's a girl out there,  
With love in her eyes and flowers in her hair_  
  
“If I had to pick a third favorite, this would be it,” he said, voice gravelly as he spoke above the music. She nodded.  
  
 __The sea was red and the sky was gray,  
Wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today  
  
When the song ended, the band took a break before their second set and Dean’s ears were ringing in the sudden silence.  
  
“You know, I gotta tell you, sweetheart - I am having a great time tonight,” he said, leaning back in his chair.  
  
There was no posturing with her, and she would've seen right through it anyway. Something about her made him want to be genuine, so he said what he felt.  
  
“Is it me or Led Zeppelin?” she asked with a smirk and he laughed.  
  
“Can it be both?”  
  
She grinned. “Absolutely.”  
  
It was so normal, he couldn't wrap his head all the way around it.  
Dinner, music, conversation.  
  
He sat forward again. “I have to be honest, I - I'm not really sure how long I’m going to be here, and when I leave, I won't be back… but, I think you're a lot of fun and I’d like to see you again.”  
  
“Sure, that would be great,” she answered with a smile. “And hey, nothing lasts forever anyway, right?” She winked.  
  
He smirked back. “I will drink to that.” They clinked their beer bottles together and Dean finished the last of his drink.  
  
  
  
=


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary** : Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.  
**  
****Characters** : This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC  
  
**Warnings** : Language and marijuana use for the whole story  
  
**Word Count** : 3,500

**A/N** : I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.   


 

**_May, 1978  
Cedar Rapids, Iowa_ **   
  
  
  
Dean had seen Eve four times over the past two weeks - one of those was an accident, they bumped into each other getting coffee one morning before work.   
  
They’d had dinner a second and third time, and met up to see Roger’s band, Black Dog, play again.   
  
He had a great time whenever they were together, but thinking about kissing her became more and more distracting as time went on.   
She certainly seemed interested in him too - still, he found himself unsure if he should pursue a romantic relationship here, given the circumstances.   
  
After some careful consideration, he decided that if something happened, it happened - he had been honest with her, so his cards were on the table.

He had gotten off work and was currently headed back into town, not in the mood to go back to the motel and sit by himself, knowing that Sam was working the evening shift.   
  
Dean really missed the convenience of cell phones - having had one for so long, he had really taken them for granted.   
  
He decided to swing by the record store to see if Eve was working, hoping maybe she would want to do something.   
  
Parallel parking in the street, Dean got out of the car, peering into the shop.   
  
“Dean?”   
  
He turned around to see Eve on the sidewalk. “Hey!”   
  
“Hi!” she replied, smiling as she gave him a hug. “What are you doing here?”   
  
“I was looking for you, actually - I just got off work and my brother is working late, do you want to do something?”   
  
“Sure, you wanna go to the drive-in and see a movie?”   
  
He nodded. “Yeah, a movie sounds great. D’you know if anything good is playing?”   
  
“Probably not,” she said with a laugh, shrugging. “Only one way to find out! If you wanna walk up the block, we can take my car - there may or may not be a joint in there…”   
  
“Interesting,” Dean said with a grin, pretending to think about it.   
  
She laughed again as they began to walk toward the lot her car was parked in.   
The downtown area was packed pretty close together and as they turned the corner, Dean saw the Dusty Bookshelf directly in front of them.   
  
“Hey - you wanna stop in here really quick and meet my brother?” he asked, gesturing to the store.   
  
“Yeah, I’d love to meet him,” she said, nodding.   
  
He knew he probably shouldn't, but did anyway - story of his life, really.   
  
The bell on the bookstore door rang as Dean held it open for Eve, who thanked him as she stepped inside.   
  
Unsurprisingly, the shop was almost empty on a Friday night, and Sam looked up from his spot behind the desk, where he had been reading a book.   
  
“Busy?” Dean asked with a grin.   
  
Sam had a slightly surprised look on his face as he chuckled, standing. “Yeah, swamped. What's up?”   
  
“Nothing, we’re getting ready to go to a movie and were walking by, so I thought I'd introduce you. This is my friend, Eve - Evie, this is my brother, Sam.”   
  
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, shaking her hand with a smile.   
  
“You too,” she replied, looking up at him. “I've heard a lot about you, it’s nice to put a face to the name.”   
  
“Oh, you have?” Sam asked, giving Dean a sideways glance. “Good things, I hope?”   
  
“Of course,” she said with a wink before looking around. “Do ya’ll have a restroom here?”   
  
“Yeah, just around the corner there,” Sam answered, pointing to the back.   
  
“Thanks - if you'll excuse me, fellas, I'll be right back.” She smiled and disappeared in that direction.   
  
When she was gone, Sam turned to him with a disapproving face. “Dude, what are you doing?”   
  
Dean gave him a bored look back. “Relax, Sammy. We smoke weed, we have fun - it's not serious. I told her I wasn't sure how long I would be here, and when I do leave, I won't be back.”   
  
Sam didn't look convinced as he shook his head. “Whatever you say, Dean.”   
  
“Bitch,” Dean muttered.   
  
“I heard that, jerk,” Sam said under his breath, plastering another smile on as Eve joined them again. “So, are you guys going to see Dawn of the Dead? I think that's playing tonight.”   
  
“I guess so, then,” she said, looking at Dean. “Do you like monster movies?”   
  
Sam smirked at him behind Eve’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, how do you feel about monsters, Dean?”   
  
Giving Sam another unamused deadpan look, Dean focused on Eve instead. “I could watch some zombie slaying - you ready?”   
  
“Whenever you are,” she replied, gesturing to the door.   
  
“Alright, I’ll see you at home, Sam,” Dean said as they both turned to leave.   
  
“At the motel,” Sam corrected.   
  
“Whatever,” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes as he gave a wave over his shoulder.   
  
“It was nice to meet you!” Eve called as they went through the door.   
  
“You too!” Sam replied loudly, the closing door muffling his voice.   
  
They walked quietly for a moment, turning a corner once more as they entered the public parking lot.   
  
“Your brother doesn't like it here, does he?” Eve asked after a moment.   
  
Dean gave a dry chuckle. “No, I don't think he does.”   
  
“Small towns aren't really for everyone,” she said, shrugging as she searched her purse for her car keys. She fished them out, jingling them in the air with a grin. “Shall we?”   
  
  
=   
  
  
They had driven through the neighborhoods and side roads so they had time to smoke, Boston playing loudly as Dean hung his arm out of the open window so he could feel the wind wrapping around his fingers.   
  
It was a comforting, numbing, floating, _freeing_ feeling that he was very fond of - he had forgotten what a great high felt like.   
  
As Eve pulled into the drive-in lot, she had paid before Dean had realized what was happening.   
  
“Hey, I was gonna pay - I asked you out tonight,” he said, giving her an unconvincing look of disapproval as she laughed, pulling laughter from him too.   
  
“What a gentleman,” she replied with a smirk. “You've paid every other time, I figured I could field this one.”   
  
“Alright, I’ll get it next time.”   
  
“Deal,” she said, pulling her car into a spot, as she killed the engine and tuned the radio to the correct station for the movie.   
  
The sun had sunk all the way down, the only lights coming from the giant blank screen and the concession stand in the distance.   
  
He had gone to buy a couple of sodas and came back as the movie credits were beginning. He got comfortable, leaning his seat back just a little.   
  
About twenty minutes into the movie, Eve suddenly reached out and turned the volume down halfway.   
  
“Hey, Dean?” she asked, clearing her throat.   
  
“Hmm?”   
  
“I, um - I wanted to, to ask you something, but I'm just…” she trailed off, focusing on chipping the paint off of her nails.   
  
She had his attention now and he sat up a little straighter in his seat, dialing the movie volume almost all the way down.  “What's up? Everything okay?”   
  
“Yes!” she replied quickly, looking back up at him. “Yeah, everything is great, that's just it. I know you will be leaving at some point and you're not looking for, you know, anything - but I, uh…”   
  
He felt the smile creeping on his face despite his best efforts to stop it - this was the first time that he had seen her flustered and nervous. It was cute.   
  
She was pulling on the loose threads on the hem of her shirt now. “It’s hard to describe, but when I'm around you, I feel…” She left that sentence in the air, but he felt pretty sure about the ending.   
  
He turned his body to her the best he could from the passenger seat. “Me too,” he said, nodding vigorously as she met his eyes again. “I can't explain it, it's just…”   
  
“Different,” she finished, nodding also as she turned to face him too.   
  
“Yeah,” he breathed out softly.   
  
It took him only a split second before he closed the small space between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.   
  
His blood felt like fire in his veins, burning its way all the way through him.   
He reached one hand up, fingers tangling in her hair as he drew her towards him.   
  
A soft sound escaped her and he took advantage of her open mouth, slowly sliding his tongue in as she reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt, attempting to pull him closer.   
  
A sharp rapping on the driver’s side window made them both jump, Eve letting out a startled gasp as they turned to look outside.   
  
An usher was standing right outside with a big flashlight pointed at them. “Not out here, kids,” he said before moving on to scold another couple, his flashlight ready.   
  
Dean looked back at Eve with a grin and they both burst into loud laughter.   
  
This lasted several minutes and when they both finally caught their breath, she was wiping away tears.   
  
“I've never gotten busted for making out at the drive-in before,” she said, giggling again. “You are a terrible influence.”   
  
“Yes, I have heard that before,” he replied with a shrug, reaching out to hold her hand, his fingers sliding over her palm before linking in between hers.   
  
They went back to watching the screen, Dean had turned the volume up a little, and after a few moments, she turned to look at him again. “Are you paying attention to the movie?”   
  
“No,” he answered, still staring at the screen as a grin began to spread across his face.   
  
“D’you wanna get out of here?”   
  
“Are you propositioning me?” he asked, looking over at her with a face of feigned shock.   
  
She raised an eyebrow at him, maintaining eye contact as she turned the keys in the ignition. “I don't know, am I?”   
  
“It sounded like it.”   
  
“Interesting. What would you say if I were?”   
  
“I would tell you to drive quickly.”   
  


 

=

  
  


 

_**July, 1978  
Cedar Rapids, Iowa** _   
  
  
"Three... two... one, up we go, fellas!" Dean called, groaning with effort as he and three other men pulled a completed wall frame from the ground and into place.   
  
That was the last one of four, and Dean's muscles ached from exertion and being under the hot sun all day. He wiped his hands on his jeans, checking his watch.   
  
He heard their boss tell them all to pack it up for the day.   
  
"Got any plans tonight, Dean?" Jeff asked, slinging his tool belt over his shoulder.   
  
"Yeah, actually, I do."   
  
"With that girl you've been seeing?" Dean shot him a grin and Jeff chuckled. "When do I get to meet her?"   
  
"Never, if she's lucky."   
  
"Right through the heart, Winchester," Jeff replied, clutching his chest.

Shaking his head and still grinning, Dean finished packing his stuff into his trunk and shut it. "I'll buy you a beer next week, brother."   
  
"Alright, man - tell that lady of yours I said hi."   
  
"I will definitely not do that, but I appreciate your sentiment," Dean replied, climbing into the driver's seat as Jeff gave him the middle finger before tapping the roof a few times.   
  
"Later, Dean."   
  
He gave a wave out the window before starting the car and heading back toward town.   
  
He and Eve had seen each other at least three times a week for the past two months and he enjoyed every second.   
He knew that this was no longer "smoking weed and having fun", but was in total denial about it.   
Being around her was intoxicating and he wasn't even a little sorry about it.   
  
He pulled into the downtown public parking lot, walking the sidewalk toward the record store, deciding to stop briefly at the Bookshelf to say hi to Sam.   
  
Pushing the door open, he was surprised to see Sam lounging in an armchair, laughing and sitting next to Eve.   
  
"Hey," he said cautiously and the two of them looked up at him.   
  
"Hey!" Eve said, rising and planting a kiss on his lips as he moved closer to them.   
  
"Hey," he repeated, still looking strangely between them. "Everything okay?"   
  
"What? Oh yeah, I just got off work early and was looking for something to do until you showed up. I thought I'd stop by and say hi to Sam."   
  
"Ahh," he replied, nodding, before adding in a lower voice. "You're not gonna leave me for my brother, are you?"   
  
She snorted and rolled her eyes at him. "Nah, he's too tall."   
  
He chuckled, kissing her again before moving to sit in the chair on the other side of Sam. "Almost done?"   
  
"Yeah," Sam answered, nodding as he checked his watch. "’Bout fifteen more minutes."   
  
"We were gonna have dinner, if you want to come with?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam, who looked uncomfortable.   
  
"Oh, I don't know - I don't want to crash your date."   
  
"Horseshit," Eve replied, shaking her head. "We just invited you."   
  
"Yeah, alright," Sam said, a smile starting to form on his face. "I could do that."   
  
A couple passed on the sidewalk and Dean noticed through the glass window that they were roller skating and holding hands.   
  
"Oh, would you look at how cute that is..." he said, gesturing toward them.   
  
Sam and Eve glanced out the window too, and Sam chuckled.   
  
"You're just jealous," Eve said, smirking at him. "You wish you could skate that well."   
  
Dean scoffed. "How hard could it be?"   
  
"Really?" she asked, an intrigued look on her face. "Care to test that theory?"   
  
Shit.   
"Not really," he replied, shrugging. He knew that he would fall on his face, he didn't need her to see it.   
  
"Come on, Dean," Sam started in on him too. "You're all that is man, surely a little roller skating doesn't scare you..."   
  
"No, thank you," Dean answered firmly.   
  
"Oh, so you're all talk then?" Eve asked, leaning her elbow on the arm of the chair, chin in her palm as she raised an eyebrow.   
  
He knew she was baiting him, but it was still working.   
  
Sam poorly disguised a laugh as a cough and Dean gave him an unamused look, which he then gave to Eve as well.   
  
"Come on, badass - show us what you've got," she said, winking at him.   
  
Son of a bitch.   
He had never been on roller skates in his life. Why did he have such a smartass mouth?   
  
"I thought we were having dinner," he mumbled.   
  
"We will," she replied. "And then we'll go skating."   
  
Fuck.   
"Fine."   
  
"But not if you're going to sulk about it."   
  
He gave her an offended look. "I am _not_ sulking, I do not _sulk_. I am simply rethinking my comments before I say them from now on."   
  
"Hmm," she replied. "So that you don't get roped into things like proving you can roller skate?"   
  
"Exactly."   
  
  
=   
  
  
After dinner, Dean found himself walking through the entrance of the roller rink, still cursing about it under his breath.   
  
Eve had a huge smile on her face as they walked to the skate rental, which made it more difficult for Dean to be in a bad mood.   
  
He was torn between amusement and despair as he got behind her in line.   
  
"No lie," Sam said from behind him, "I cannot wait to watch this."   
  
"Oh, you thought you were getting out of this?" Dean asked, turning to smirk at him with a raised eyebrow. "Not a chance, Sammy - saddle up."   
Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean shook his head. "I don't care about whatever bullshit excuse you were about to use."   
  
Muttering to himself, Sam shook his head and Dean turned back around to get his skates.   
  
_Brick House_ by the Commodores was blasting through the speakers and Dean couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself as the three of them sat on a bench, tying their skates on.   
  
"Keep laughing, Chuckles," Sam mumbled. "We'll see how funny you think this is in a second."   
  
Rolling his eyes again, Dean finished his laces and very carefully stood up, nearly falling immediately. He waved his arms out wildly at his sides, maintaining his balance by a hair.   
  
This was going to be so bad.   
  
"Those look good on you," Eve commented, giving him an appreciative look over from the bench.   
  
"Well, you'd better remember what they look like, I won't be putting them on again."   
  
She laughed and rose, easily gliding away from them and toward the rink. "Let's see it, Winchesters."   
  
"I'm never going to forgive you for this, Sam," Dean said, shooting him a disgruntled look.   
  
" _Me?_ This is _your_ fault, Dean!"   
  
"Whatever."   
  
Sam suddenly grinned, leaving Dean shocked when he too, easily skated to the rink.   
  
"What?!" Dean demanded, grabbing the railing on the outside to hold himself up. "When did you - how did you - _what?!”_   
  
"I had a lot of free time as a kid, Dean," Sam called back. "Too bad you can't say the same...?"   
  
"Motherfucker," Dean muttered, using the railing again to lead himself inside the rink.   
  
This was so, _so_ bad.   
  
Once inside, Dean took a deep breath, focusing all of his attention on his balance. He grabbed the railing one last time and used it to propel himself forward, sending him rolling across the middle of the rink.   
  
"You've got it, babe!" Eve called as she sped past him.   
  
He did _not_ have it.   
  
He opened his mouth to reply - a mistake, he immediately realized, as his feet slipped out from under him.   
He landed hard on his ass, a loud groan escaping him.   
  
He could hear Sam's loud cackling from halfway across the rink, and he shot a look of indignation at him.   
  
Eve was next to Dean on one knee. "Are you hurt?"   
  
"Only my pride," he replied, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment. "I will admit - maybe this is harder than it looks."   
  
She grinned. "You did alright for your first time."   
  
"It's really sweet of you to lie to me like that."   
  
Eve laughed loudly, standing again and offering him her hand.   
  
He reluctantly took it, unsure how he would get up if he refused, and he glanced down at his skates warily.   
  
"Here," she said, taking his other hand and pulling him forward as she began to skate backward.   
  
"Are you showing off on purpose?"   
  
"You better shut that smart mouth of yours, I'm trying to help you."   
  
He tried very hard to keep the frown on his face but couldn't with her grinning at him.   
  
"Now what?" he asked.   
  
"Use your right foot to steady yourself and then push off with your left - think of balancing the same way you would on a bicycle." He eyed her cautiously. "Come on, I'll keep you up."   
  
He did as she said and after a few moments, she let go of one hand, still holding the other tightly as the two of them made their way around the rink together.   
  
"See? It's not so bad, right?" she asked and he nodded, not chancing to look at her.   
  
Grand Funk Railroad's _Some Kind of Wonderful_ began, a song he loved, and he felt a smile creep onto his face.   
  
"Goddamnit, you guys are cute!" Sam remarked loudly as he passed them.   
  
If Dean thought he could stop and glare at him, he would've but was unwilling to risk it.   
  
Soon, Eve let go of his hand and he was skating around the rink without help.   
Though he was still a little shaky and sore, he found that he was enjoying himself as he zipped in circles.   
  
Eve stayed close, ready to swoop in should he need assistance again, and Sam seemed to be trying to throw him off, skating far too near him every time he passed.   
  
They skated for about an hour and he fell only a couple more times, but the last one was enough for him - he was sure that cracked his tailbone.   
  
He hobbled carefully out of the rink and back onto a bench, glad to have the skates off of his feet.   
  
“So, what lesson did you learn today, Dean?” Sam asked, taking a seat next to him with a grin.   
  
“Well, I learned that I'll never challenge you to a skate-off, anyway.”   
  
“Well, at least that's something,” Sam replied, shaking his head.

  
=

  
  
  
  
  


 


	6. Chapter 6

  
Summary: Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.  
  
Characters: This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC  
  
Warnings: Language and marijuana use for the whole story  
  
Word Count: 4,200  
  
A/N: I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.

 

  
_**September, 1978** _   
_**Cedar Rapids, Iowa** _

 

Dean and Eve were inseparable.

It was a camaraderie like Dean hadn't ever experienced before, it was like finding his other half.   
Maybe it was her sense of humor, or the almost lazy way she spoke, or how she just seemed to know what he was thinking. Maybe it was her quick wit and smart mouth.   
Maybe it was all or none of these things, but he found such a feeling of peace just being around her.

He knew that he shouldn't be doing this, he thought about it all the time. It was irresponsible - and deep down, he knew that was a big part of _why_ he was doing it.  
He was tired of responsibilities - he had never been without them. Until now.

Still, Dean longed to tell Eve the truth. Keeping this secret was lying by omission, and while that was a fine charade with women he didn't really know, he knew this woman intimately - and lying to her made him feel sick.

There was a constant struggle within him whenever he thought about telling the truth too. He wanted to believe she would accept it, but the better half of him knew that she would think he was insane, or she would be pissed that he had lied, or both.

Sam seemed happy for him - but, he was like a dark cloud over a picnic, always looking at them with apprehension. It made Dean feel worse about the whole thing.

It was a Saturday, and both he and Eve were off work all day. They had spent it lounging around and eating takeout, laughing in their pajamas.

The motel room was dark, the only light coming from the glowing ember on the joint they were smoking.

The sun had gone down and they were laying in bed together, her legs tangled with his, blankets cocooned around them.  
The record player in the corner, a gift from Roger, was spinning Eric Clapton's _Slowhand_ album around the otherwise quiet room.

"I've got to tell you," she said quietly, "these are some of my favorite moments. I can pretend that nothing else exists."

He smiled and nodded, even though she couldn't see it, tilting his head to press a kiss to her temple.

The door to the motel room swung open, both of them jumping as they looked over.

Sam walked through the door and hadn't noticed them yet, as he reached over and flipped the light on.

"Oh, shit - I'm sorry, guys," he stuttered out, his face red. "Are you - should I -"

"Relax, Sam," Dean replied, shaking his head. "I thought you weren't going to be back for a few more hours."

"Yeah, someone needed the extra hours so I volunteered to leave... " He still looked uncomfortable as he took a seat at the table.

"We were talking about going to play pool and get a drink, you should come with us," Dean suggested, looking down at Eve, who nodded.

"Ah, I don't know... "

"Here, take this, maybe you'll change your mind," Dean said with a chuckle, climbing out of the bed and reaching his arm out to hand Sam the joint.

Sam looked quizzically at the spliff and then back at Dean. "You're serious?"

"What, does it look like I'm joking? You need to unwind, Sammy." Sam still stared at him and he sighed. "Look, take it or don't take it - this isn't some after school special, I'm not going to peer pressure you."

"Fine, give it to me," Sam finally said, taking the joint.

"There you go," he replied with a smirk.

Thirty minutes and several coughing fits later, Sam lay giggling across the foot of Dean's bed while he and Eve sat up against the headboard.

"You know, I haven't smoked pot since college," he said, his laughter subsiding.

"Before we came here, it had been forever for me too," Dean said, grinning at his brother's current state. "Feels good, don't it?"

More chuckling was his response and after a few more minutes, they decided to get dressed to go out.

The bar they ended up in was a honky tonk - this was the Midwest, after all. He had actually been to this one with Jeff once before.

Hank William's _Move it on Over_ was playing merrily from the jukebox and several of the locals looked over to see who was coming in.

"Hey - Dean!"

Speak of the devil - Jeff had been sitting at the bar and was on his way over.

"Hey, Jeff - should've known you'd be here," Dean said, slapping him on the back.

"It is Saturday," he replied, turning his attention from Dean to Eve. "Let's see, you must be the lovely lady who's charmed my pal over here."

Goddamnit, Jeff.  
Not like this was a secret, Eve cast a knowing smirk over at Dean, who shrugged.

"I think I might be," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm Eve, nice to meet you."

"Jeff - the pleasure's mine, honey. He talks about you all the time -"

"Alright, Jeff, that's enough," Dean interjected quickly, a firm hand on his shoulder as he turned him toward Sam instead. "I don't think you've ever met my brother - Sam, this is my buddy from work, Jeff. This is Sam."

The two of them shook hands as well and Eve made her way up to the bar to get their first round.

"Jeff, could you be cool, please?" Dean asked in a low voice.

He laughed and slapped Dean on the back hard, causing him to groan.

"I could, I guess," Jeff said, shrugging. "But where's the fun in that?"

Perfect.  
Dean snorted and shook his head. "Fine, but if you don't ever see her again, there's no wondering why."

Sam was snickering quietly at this exchange as they grabbed a spot to sit near the pool tables.

Eve came back with beer for the group and they began a game of two on two, Dean and Jeff annihilating Sam and Eve, because she was terrible at pool.

After the third game, Jeff had left and her face was all scrunched up with irritation from her losses.

"Lord, someone take this fucking stick from me before I break it," she said after a frustrated groan.

Dean grinned at her and held his hand out for the cue, which she handed to him.

"Wanna play darts instead?" he asked, knowing that she was pretty good - and winning a little would make her feel better.

"Yes, thank you," she replied with a laugh. "I'll grab some from the bartender."

As he watched her walk away, Dean saw Sam shaking his head and muttering to himself from the corner of his eye.

He had had a few drinks, and wasn't in the mood for Sam's attitude. "What's the problem - you don't like her? Coz there isn't a thing about her not to like."

"That _is_ the problem, Dean - I _do_ like her," he said, suddenly serious. "I would feel a lot better about this if I didn't like her."

"Sam -"

"I mean, you do know that this could be over at any time, right?"

Dean cocked his head, clenching his jaw a little. "Thanks, Sam, that thought hadn't occurred to me. I definitely don't think about that every night before I fall asleep."

Sam sighed. "I know you like her a lot, and I'm glad you're adjusting here, but Dean - this isn't real."

"It isn't real?" Dean repeated incredulously, immediately irritated by the statement. "What is it then?"

"You know what I mean -"

"Don't tell me this isn't _real_ , Sam - we have been waking up every day for the past _eight months_ and _living_ this life. If that isn't real, what is?"

"Fine, it's real - have you thought about how she's going to feel when you just up and leave?"

"Of course I've thought about it, what did I just say?" Dean snapped at him before heaving a sigh. "Damnit, I didn't mean for this to happen, Sam."

"I know," he replied quietly. "But it did happen - and it will end, Dean. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but Cas is coming back for us."

The two of them stared at each other for a minute, Dean knowing that Sam was right, just not wanting to accept it.

Sam drained his beer, moving to get another from the bar, stopping briefly to add softly, "We don't belong here, Dean."

When he came back, it was like the conversation had never happened - Sam was grinning like an idiot again, laughing and talking loudly as he attempted to play darts.

After a couple more drinks, this was not going well for him.

"Alright, Eve - ten bucks says that I can beat you this time," he said, his words beginning to slur.

"Oh, bless your heart, Sam... " she replied, patting his cheek with one hand, before turning around and hitting the bullseye.

Dean laughed at the disappointed look on Sam's face, shrugging when he glanced over at him.

"I think I might've had a little too much to drink," Sam considered slowly, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What was your first clue?" Dean asked, feeling the effects of the alcohol himself.

"Hey, if you guys are ready to call it a night, my place is right around the corner,” Eve offered. “Do ya'll just wanna crash over there?"

Dean looked at his watch - it was nearing one in the morning. "What d'you think, Sammy? Done drinking?"

"I wanna eat," Sam said, standing suddenly, nearly toppling his stool over. "I'm starving."

"Well, I've got plenty of snacks -"

"Say no more," he replied, already on his way out the door.

Eve gave Dean an amused look and he laughed loudly. "You heard the man, I guess we're going."

The three of them, stumbling and giggling, made their way back to Eve's apartment, Sam tripping on his way up the stairs.

Once they got inside, he collapsed on her large chair with a long sigh.  
"Dean, you were right - I _did_ need to relax."

"I'm always right," he mumbled back, kneeling on the ground as he began pulling his brother's shoes off.

"Stop, stop it," Sam muttered, kicking his feet.

" _You_ stop it, I'm trying to help."

Eve was chuckling at their interaction as she came back from the kitchen, tossing a bag of chips and a bag of pretzels at Sam, who groaned appreciatively and tore the chips open.

Dean stood, sharing another amused look with her, before moving across the room to put _The Dark Side of the Moon_ on the record player.

She also had a collection of lava lamps that he loved - he wasn't sure what it was about them, but watching them melt and ooze was so relaxing.  
He switched all of them on and turned the overhead light off.

"I like this album," Sam murmured, crunching loudly.

"Me too," Eve said from her new position, sprawled on the couch. Dean nudged her legs over and took the spot next to her, pulling them back over his lap, resting one hand on her thigh.

"It's a good one," he said, leaning his head back to rest on the cushions.

"You know, they were here in concert last year and I couldn't go - I was wrecked," Eve said, crossing her arms behind her head. "I want nothing more in my life than to hear _Wish You Were Here_ live."

"That's the only thing you want out of life?" Dean asked with a chuckle, closing his eyes.

"Alright, fine, I want a lot of things - but that's one of them."

The three of them were silent for a moment, until Sam suddenly began to sing loudly and off-key, "Soooo... so you think you can teeeeell... "

Eyes still closed, Dean grinned, chiming in, "Heaven from hellllll... "

"Blue skies from paaain," Sam continued, his voice cracking followed by drunken laughter.

Opening his eyes, Dean cocked his head a little to look at Sam. "Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?"

"A smile from a veil... " Sam pointed at him from his spot on the chair, in full performance mode. "Do you think you can tell?"

Eve was giggling as she began to sing softly. "And did they get you to traaaade your heroes for ghosts?"

Dean took a deep breath as he and Sam belted together, "Hot ashes for trees, hot air for a cool breeze?"

The laughter continued as they sang the entire song together, and talked about nothing for another hour or so. A soft snoring signaled that Sam had fallen asleep, and Eve tilted her head to glance at him before looking back over at Dean.

"He's fun," she whispered. "I hope he had a good time tonight - he always seems so bummed out."

"He doesn't belong here," Dean murmured back, half asleep in a drunken haze.

"Do you like it here?" she asked, searching his eyes.

"I love it here," he replied, squeezing her knee. "It's everything that I never got to have."

She smiled up at him, eyes sliding in and out of focus as the lids fluttered shut. "I'm glad you're happy."

"Yeah," he whispered, the pit in his stomach tightening as he thought of his previous conversation with Sam. "Yeah, me too."

 

=

  
**_November, 1978  
Cedar Rapids, Iowa_ **

  
The weather had turned colder, all of the leaves on the trees were brilliant shades of yellow, orange, and red.

In October, Eve's apartment lease was up and she decided to pay month to month until she found something different, slowly boxing up all of her belongings.  
Her place was fine, but it was pretty cramped and parking was a bitch.

The week before Thanksgiving, she had told Dean she found a nice house she was considering renting. Roger's father was in real estate and had bought some foreclosed homes to flip and rent out.

The next day after work, he went with her to check it out.  
It was pretty big for one person, an old Victorian house, and if he had to guess just by looking at it, it had been built easily 100 years ago. It would certainly be a big upgrade on space.

As they stepped out of the car, Dean felt uneasy as he looked it over. It was a gorgeous house, for sure, but it looked like it had been unoccupied for a long time.  
He couldn't help but wonder why.

"I've always thought it was beautiful," Eve said as they climbed the stairs to the porch. "I go out of my way to drive by it sometimes."

She unlocked the door using the keys Roger had given her at work, and they stepped inside, the door creaking as it opened.

It smelled of sawdust and leather, most of the furniture still in place, drop cloths draped over everything.

"It's nice, right?" she asked, looking over at him.

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding as he ignored his paranoia. "Yeah, it's sturdy too."

"And I guess you would know, wouldn't you?" she asked with a wink, disappearing into the kitchen.

He chuckled and shook his head, wandering over to the living room. A large stone fireplace was at the back of the room, near the staircase. "I'm wondering why it's such a steal," he called back to her. "What's wrong with it?"

Her laugh echoed through the hall and she came through the doorway with a shrug. "I have no idea. It seems to be in great shape, honestly. That's why I asked you to check it out."

"When was the last time someone lived here?" he asked, running his hand along the stair rail, bringing up about an inch of dust on his fingers.

"I think it's safe to say it's been a while," she replied. "Empty for as long as I've been here, anyway." She looked around, her expression a little disappointed. "You don't like it, do you?"

"Oh, no - listen," he said, stepping over to her. "I think it's beautiful - just needs a little elbow grease."

She smiled again. "Luckily, I think I know at least one strapping gentleman who might be willing to help me with that."

"You know what," Dean said, feigning a face of deep thought as he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. "I think you're right." He grinned and leaned down to press a long kiss to her lips.

  
=

  
Three days later, Dean was helping her move in.

She didn't have a lot of stuff and lived relatively close to the new place, but it was still a draining day.

He walked into the kitchen where she was putting her spices and pantry items in the cabinets, The Beatles’ album, _Let It Be_ playing loudly from the living room.

"Your bed is officially assembled and ready to sleep in," he said, leaning his back on the counter.

"You are the best," she replied, reaching into the refrigerator and handing him a beer - one of the only things in there. She opened one for herself, took a long pull, and let out a content sigh. "You know, I saw The Beatles when I was a teenager? 1966.”

“Did you?” Dean asked, a smile creeping onto his face, picturing her there.

“I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 15, we had just moved here and Kate was a few months old. Ken told us to go and have fun, so Mama and I drove over to St. Louis.” She shook her head with a laugh, an almost dreamy look on her face. “It was so loud - you couldn't hear much over all the girls screaming.”  
  
Dean chuckled. “But not you?”

“Well, of course I was too - we’re talking about Paul McCartney here, Dean.”

He laughed loudly and tilted his head fondly at her. “I bet that was an awesome experience.”

“It was incredible. I could feel the bass in my chest - that was the only way I could identify some of the songs. Just all this electricity, buzzing around you.” She sighed and shook her head again, brandishing her beer. “What do you say we finish these and go to bed?”

"You read my mind," he replied, winking at her.

And they did just that, Dean falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It was hours later when he heard his name being whispered.

" _Dean?"_

He was in the veil of sleep, not quite sure if Eve's voice was in his dream or not.

"Dean." This was a little bit louder, but still hushed. She sounded afraid.

A loud rattling sound began and he sat up straight in bed, glancing at Eve who was already sitting.

Dean looked in the direction of the sound and saw the side table in the corner of the room was shaking and bouncing up and down, the books that had been sitting on it were in the air, floating in circles.

The room was suddenly so cold that their breath hung around them in the air.

"You see this too, right?" she asked, her voice barely audible, staring in the corner of the room, slowly taking hold of one of his hands with both of hers.

"Yes," he breathed back. He had almost forgotten what it was like.

He used his free hand to stroke the back of her hair, speaking as calmly as he could. "Alright sweetheart, here's what we're gonna do - we're gonna move as quickly and quietly as possible and get to the front door, okay?"

"Okay," she repeated, not looking at him, still transfixed on the books in the air.

The table suddenly stopped its rattling and shaking, the books slamming to the ground with deafening bang. Everything in the room was still again.

"Now," he said and she moved immediately, her hands lingering on his for only a moment as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

He did as well, grabbing her hand again as they walked swiftly from the bedroom and began down the stairs, the lights above them flickering ominously.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dean made a quick sidestep to the fireplace, pulling the poker out of the holder and clutching it close to him.

They made their way to the front door, and he let go of her to switch the poker to his dominant hand, his back to the door as Eve went to unlock and turn the knob.

"Dean," she said softly, her fingers closing around his wrist, "the door won't open."

He met eyes with her before glancing around the room quickly, trying to formulate a plan. He held the fireplace poker like a sword. "Kitchen, on my count, as fast as you can - I need you to find salt."

She nodded, her eyes round with fear, but showing no other signs of panic. "What should I do with it?" she whispered.

"Pour it on the ground, make a circle and get inside."

She was watching him carefully as she listened, not questioning why she was doing this, only trusting what he said.

"Ready?" he asked evenly and she nodded again. "I'm right behind you. One, two, go!"

There was no hesitation as Eve made a mad dash to the kitchen, Dean on her heels, looking around rapidly for the poltergeist.  
She clambered onto the counter, reaching high in one of the cabinets for the salt, nearly dropping it as she turned around, the ghost of an old man materializing right in front of her face.

A strangled gasp escaped her and Dean swung the fireplace poker like a baseball bat, the ghost disappearing again.

"Quick, Evie, quick!"

She jumped down from the counter, the spout of the salt container already open as her feet hit the ground, and she dumped the contents all around her.

Stepping inside the circle too, Dean gripped her shoulder tightly. There was no time to relax or be relieved, not until they were out of the house.

"Now what?" she asked quietly, her eyes flitting all over the kitchen.

"I'm going to draw it away and I want you to try to open the back door, okay?"

"I won't leave you here."

"You won't have to - I'm hoping that if I can distract it long enough for you to get the door open, I'll take a swing and be right behind you."

"Okay," she whispered, nodding slowly. "Please be careful."

He couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face and he gave her a quick kiss. "Pull on that door as hard as you can."  
He squeezed her shoulder one more time before taking several strides away from her, out of the circle.

"Alright, you son of a bitch, let's dance!" he called, twirling the poker like a baton. After a few moments passed and nothing happened, he added, "What, stage fright? Don't worry, I'll be gentle -"

A strong force knocked him roughly forward and he stumbled onto his knees, tightening his grip on his weapon.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Eve scramble to the door, a strained groan coming from her as she tried to pry the door open, both hands on the knob and one foot wedged against the wall for leverage.

He swung the poker back in a wide arc, and when he turned around he was face to face with the poltergeist.

"It's open!" he heard Eve cry and with all of his strength, he brought the poker sailing back up through the ghost's figure, causing it to disperse again.

Still a tight hold on the iron, Dean rushed over to the door, snatching his coat from the table, knowing his car keys were inside. Both of them tumbled through the back door, and without speaking, he grabbed her hand as they sprinted around the house and down the long driveway.

Once at the street, they stopped next to Dean’s car, both out of breath from running.  
They were just standing there, half-dressed with no shoes, and despite his best efforts, Dean cracked a smile as he finally tossed his weapon to the ground, still gasping for air.   
Eve stared back at him, eyes wild as she tried to process what had just happened.

He felt his stomach twist as he realized what this meant.  
He wanted to be honest with her.  
He would have to tell her the truth, tell her he had been lying about who he was and what he had done - and where he came from.  
He swallowed thickly, grappling with the words to say. "Evie, I-"

Before he could get anything else out, she had flung her arms around his neck, kissing him hard, her heart pounding so violently that he could feel it against his own chest.

She placed her freezing hands on both sides of his face, and when she pulled back, her eyes were still wide and almost spellbound.

"Dean - who _are_ you?"

 

=

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Summary** : Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.  
**  
****Characters** : This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC  
  
**Warnings** : Language and marijuana use for the whole story  
  
**Word Count** : 4,500

**A/N** : I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.  
  
  


**_November, 1978_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Cedar Rapids, Iowa_ ** **_  
_ **   
  
He told her everything.   
_ Everything _ .   
About ghosts, about monsters. About demons and angels, heaven and hell.   
About John and Mary, himself and Sam, and 2010.   
  
It all just came pouring out of him, and he hadn't realized how much he needed to tell someone until then.   
  
They had taken Dean’s car back into town - he had two pairs of work boots in his trunk, so Eve had to stomp around in shoes that were far too big for her, but they were better than nothing. They stopped at a gas station along the way and Eve nervously chain smoked cigarettes on the rest of the trip. Dean had seen an almost empty 24 hour diner and they'd picked a seat all the way in the back - they had coffee and he told her his story in a low voice.   
  
She never said a word during his lengthy explanation, just watched him intently, nodding as she took it all in.   
  
When he was finished, he waited for her to say something, anything.

  
"So," she began slowly, after a solid three minutes of silence, "basically, you're telling me that not only are monsters and demons real, but you hunt them - and you're from the future?"   
  
Dean sighed, knowing how all of this sounded to her, and he rubbed his face with his hands. He leaned forward in the booth. "Do you think I'm crazy?"   
  
She chuckled, a crooked smile on her lips. "That would be easier, wouldn't it?" She reached across the table and took one of his hands. "I don't think you're crazy. I mean, I saw a ghost with my own eyes - and you knew exactly what to do. Maybe it just makes us both crazy, but I believe you."   
  
"And you're not angry at me for lying to you?"   
  
"Like I would've believed you? If I hadn't  _ just _ seen it, I probably would've thought you were nuts." She ran her hands over her face and then through her hair, shaking her head. "This is so heavy - I can't believe all of these monsters are real. And heaven? Heaven is real - I never... I never thought..."   
  
"Honey, you and me both," Dean said, cracking another grin. "I know this is a lot to take in - are you sure you're okay?"   
  
"Yeah," she replied, looking a little dazed. "Yeah, I think so."   
  
He glanced down at his watch and saw that it was approaching 7 in the morning, the diner becoming more crowded with patrons.   
  
"Why don't we go ahead and go back to the motel?" he suggested, squeezing her shoulder. "Sam should be awake by now, so we won't be bothering him. You can get some rest, maybe."   
  
She snorted and gave him an amused look. He knew she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon after what he had just told her.   
  
"Yeah, let's go," she said, rising on still shaky legs. The coffee probably hadn't helped that any.   
  
After paying, they made their way outside and began the short drive to the motel. Eve was quiet the whole way, but looked like she was in deep thought, reasoning with herself.   
  
Dean knocked on the door rhythmically, hoping Sam would know it was him.   
  
He did, and swung the door open a moment later, a confused look on his face.   
"Hey, everything okay?" he asked.   
  
Eve's face still had the same expression of shocked fascination that she'd been wearing for the past six hours.   
  
Sam stepped back to let them in and closed the door again once they were inside.   
  
Dean sighed slightly. "Yeah, listen -"   
  
"Sam," Eve said suddenly, and he turned his attention to her as she surprised him with a fierce hug.   
  
"What - is happening?" Sam asked, bewildered as he hugged her back, looking over at Dean with his eyebrows knitted together in concern.   
  
"Your life - what a goddamn mess, you guys. I'm so sorry for all the shitty things that have happened to you." She pulled back, staring up at him, and put her hands on either side of his face. "You guys are fucking heroes.  _ Heroes _ ."   
She suddenly walked away from him, now muttering to herself as she sat down on Dean's bed.   
  
"Um, is she okay?" Sam asked Dean in a low voice.   
  
"Well, her new house is haunted."   
  
Sam's jaw dropped open. "So, you -"   
  
"Told her everything? Yeah, I did."   
  
"Dean -"   
  
"What would you have done, Sammy?"   
  
Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish, a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't know," he replied honestly, before adding, "Everything?"   
  
"All of it. You, me, and the apocalypse in 2010 - hey, that would make a good movie title," he said with a grin.   
  
"Dean... "   
  
"You can reprimand me later - I need your help figuring out who the ghost in her house is so we can roast him."   
  
Sam sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah, I'll see what I can find." He looked over his shoulder at Eve. "How'd she take it?"   
  
"Surprisingly well," Dean replied, shrugging. "I think she already knew we weren't telling her the whole truth about ourselves, but man, what a way to find out."   
  
"No kidding," Sam muttered. "Well, what's done is done, right?"   
  
Dean had to admit, he was expecting more of a lecture than that - but, it certainly wasn't the first time they'd had to tell someone that monsters were real.   
  
Sam left for work a little while later, taking down Eve's new address in the hope of finding information on who had lived there before.   
  
Eve sat up against the headboard of Dean's bed, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her forehead creased with concern as her eyes darted back and forth across the bed in front of her.   
  
Dean sat in a chair near the bed, watching her carefully. "Babe?" he said softly after a long silence. "D'you want to talk about it?" He wasn't sure what he would say that he hadn't already, but he figured he could answer questions if she had them. She still appeared pretty distressed.   
  
She met eyes with him for the first time since they'd left the diner. "I don't know... I'm still, just, letting it all sink in, I guess... "   
  
"Yeah," he murmured, nodding. "Yeah, I get it." He glanced down at the ground, clearing his throat. "After Sam and I get rid of the ghost, if you want to say goodbye to us, I wouldn't blame you a bit. This is messy and complicated - and not at all what you thought you were getting into."   
  
He looked back up to find her still watching him.   
  
"Are you kidding?" she asked. "This is the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me." She cracked a smile.   
  
So did he and he chuckled. "Interesting is a word for it." He moved to sit on the bed next to her. "I have to tell you, I feel a lot better now that you know the truth about everything."   
  
And he did - it was like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of his chest.   
  
"I am too," she said quietly, taking one of his hands in hers. "I can't imagine what this has been like for you."   
  
"Y'know, it's..." he trailed off, a nervous laugh escaping him, "it's funny, really. Being stranded here, alone, without any idea of when we'll go back, it's pretty overwhelming, but... the rest of it?" He shook his head. "The construction job, the routine, the town, you... I've never felt so, just content to exist."   
  
He looked up at her and she had an expression that told him she wanted to say a million things, but she didn't speak, only looked back at him with a smile. She leaned in to press a kiss to his lips before finally whispering, "You deserve it."   
  
  
=   
  
  
Over the next week, Sam had managed to find the few previous owners of Eve's house and they had pinpointed who their ghost was.   
A gentleman in his eighties had been the second to last occupant, and he appeared to have died under nefarious circumstances.   
  
A little more digging had gotten them the information for where he was buried, and the brothers did a salt and burn in the middle of the night.   
The two of them stayed the night at the house the next day to be sure while Eve stayed at the motel, but there was no sign of ghost activity.   
  
Once they were both satisfied it was safe, Eve had returned, and Dean's regular life had picked up where it left off - with a new person in his corner.   
In addition to this, Sam began to spend more time with the two of them, finally feeling comfortable to be himself around her.   
  
It was like a switch had flipped within Sam - from the moment he had found out Eve knew the truth, he had been warmer, friendly, open.   
The truth was that Sam had needed a friend just as badly as Dean had, but had been unwilling to lie to one.   
  
He had been less selfish, Dean had realized, leaving him with a bitter feeling about himself - just something to push back in his mind and add to the pile of self loathing that already existed.   
  
Dean was going to allow himself this selfishness, this indiscretion.   
It was only temporary.   
  
  


=

  
  


**_January, 1979_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Cedar Rapids, Iowa_ ** **_  
_ **   
  
It was Dean's birthday.   
His actual birthday, January 24th, 1979.   
  
It felt strange, to say the least. Knowing that two of him would exist at the same time within a matter of hours.   
  
This was not the only strange feeling he had, unfortunately - a flu bug had been going around his worksite and it seemed to have gotten to him.   
  
His head was swimming, his throat was on fire, his entire body ached.   
When he had tried to push himself out of bed that morning, he had been left so dizzy that he didn't have any choice but to stay there a little longer.   
  
When he had finally managed to get up and dressed, forcing some coffee and a piece of toast down in hopes of combatting the lightheaded feeling, he was over an hour late to work.

  
His stomach was turning, but the dizziness had faded as he walked out of Eve's house, locking the door behind him.  
She had already left for work that morning, leaving him with a kiss and a whispered birthday wish.  
  
Dean drove slowly to work, pulling the car over twice on the way when vicious waves of nausea hit.  
He managed to keep his excuse for a breakfast down - until he pulled into the construction site, the offensive smell of roof tar causing him to retch and vomit on the ground the second he got out of the car.  
  
He wiped his mouth with the back of his shaky hand and took a deep breath.  
  
"You alright, Dean?"  
  
Dean looked up to see his boss, Daniel, the contractor in charge of the job, walking toward him with a concerned look.  
  
"Yeah," Dean answered, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine - I'm sorry I'm late, I think I caught whatever's been going around here."  
  
"I can see that," Daniel replied, gesturing to what had been the contents of Dean's stomach. "Why don't you just head back home for the day?"  
  
"Nah, I'm fine," Dean repeated, shaking his head. "I'll be alright."  
  
Daniel chuckled. "You're as white as a sheet, Winchester. Take the day off, we'll see you tomorrow." He didn't wait for Dean's reply as he turned and walked away.  
  
Dean sighed, actually very relieved to be going back to bed.  
  
He drove just as slowly back to Eve's, still not trusting his stomach, and let himself back in, collapsing on the couch without removing his boots.  
  
A pitiful groan escaped him and he was glad no one was around to hear it. He reached up and grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around himself.  
  
He really hated being sick.  
  
His eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off into a restless sleep, his body switching between sweltering hot and freezing cold every few minutes.  
  
A few hours later, he heard the door open and keys jingling.  
  
"Dean?" Eve called, not noticing him buried in the blanket a few feet from where she was standing. "I saw your car - is everything okay?"  
  
"Nooo," he groaned loudly, causing her to jump. "I think I'm dying."  
  
She laughed softly and came to sit by him, pulling the blanket from his head. She placed her hands on his face, and they felt pleasantly cold on his sweaty skin.  
  
"You are burning up," she murmured. "They sent you home from work, then?"  
  
"I told him I was fine, but I puked all over the ground, so I think he knew I was lying..."  
  
Eve chuckled again, kissing his forehead before taking his boots off for him. "Couldn't even get these off, huh?"  
  
"I told you, I'm dying."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure you are," she replied with a grin, running a hand through his hair. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed?"  
  
"I would be," he answered. "I'm not sure I can get there."  
  
"I can try to drag you up the stairs, if you like?"  
  
"That's sweet, but I'll pass."  
  
"Alright, I'll be right back," she said with a laugh and disappeared upstairs.  
  
She came back moments later, her arms loaded with the blankets and pillows from the bed, which she dumped on top of him.  
  
He chuckled, which triggered a coughing fit that left his head pounding violently when it was done.  
  
Eve smiled sympathetically at him and handed him the fluffiest pillow, which he gratefully took, immediately placing it behind his head.  
  
After the couch had been transformed into a comfortable pillow and blanket nest, she perched herself on the arm of the couch.  
  
He tilted his head back to look at her with a pathetic face. "This is what dying feels like. Bring me death."  
  
She laughed softly and put a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over the splash of freckles there. "I've got some medicine for the cough and fever, but you're going to have to ride the rest out."  
  
Dean grimaced. He hated cough syrup. He sat up, changing his tune immediately. "I'm fine, my body will fix itself."  
  
"Dean, don't be a baby."  
  
"I told you, I'm fine."  
  
She scoffed. "No, you _told_ _me_ to bring you death."  
  
He had said that. "I think I'll be alright."  
  
Eve walked away from him then, rummaging in the closet before coming back with a cap-full of the medicine. She cleared her throat and he shook his head.  
  
"Listen, birthday boy - I know that you are a _man_ and a fierce warrior. Consider me wooed and impressed. But," she paused and put her free hand on her hip, "if you choose not to take this medicine and then continue to whine about your imminent death, _I'm_ going to be the one who kills you."  
  
"I am not _whining_ -"  
  
She didn't even need to open her mouth, the unamused look on her face and raised eyebrow said it all.  
  
He grumbled to himself before giving an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, give it here."  
  
She chuckled with a smirk, handing the little cup full of red liquid to him.  
  
He threw his head back and downed it all, gagging as it slid down his throat. "Oh god, it's so _gross_ ," he moaned in a disgusted voice after he swallowed. "Why do they have to make it taste _so_ _gross_?"  
  
Eve didn't answer, just giggled again before rubbing his back lightly and walking to the kitchen.  
  
She made him chicken soup, but he could barely touch it, though it was delicious. His stomach lurched at the very thought of food - and with any movements he made. He did his best to stay still.  
  
They lay on the couch for the rest of the day, Dean fading in and out of sleep as Eve ran her fingers through his hair.  
  
The sun was starting to sink and the Happy Days theme song woke him up this time. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, finding the couch empty next to him.  
  
Not really able to do much more than pop his head up and glance around, he did just that - and though he couldn't see Eve, he could hear her humming the theme along with the television.  
  
Smiling to himself, he laid his head back down as she reappeared with two steaming mugs that she set down on the table.  
  
"Thought some tea might do you good, if you can manage it," she said, reclaiming her seat next to him.  
  
"Thanks," he replied, squeezing her knee lightly.  
  
"Your brother called while you were sleeping - he was worried about you. He says happy birthday," she said, giving him another sympathetic look. "I'm sorry you're sick today."  
  
He offered her a half smile and a shrug. "I've definitely had worse birthdays."  
  
She smiled back at him, sipping her tea carefully. A thoughtful look on her face, she said, "So, like, any minute now, you're actually being born one state over?"  
  
He leaned his head sideways to look at her. "It's fucking weird, isn't it?"  
  
She laughed loudly and nodded. "This is such a trip."  
  
"Yes, it is," he replied with a weak chuckle of his own.  
  
He did manage to drink about half of his tea, which did help to alleviate some of the pain in his throat and warm his stomach.  
  
After falling asleep yet again, Dean awoke one more time in the darkness, the television switched off and the house quiet.  
  
He could feel the warmth from Eve's body curled up next to his, her head rested gently on his shoulder.  
Dean reached gingerly across his body to brush her hair from her face, before tucking his free arm behind his head.  
  
As he thought on it, lying on the blanket covered couch with Eve's even breathing tickling his neck, this was perhaps the best birthday he could remember.  
  
  


=

  
  


**_March, 1979_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Cedar Rapids, Iowa_ ** **_  
_ **   
  
Spring was upon them again and in general, Dean was in high spirits.   
  
The subdivision construction was almost completed - they had to pause during the heavy snow they had received the month before. The framework was long done, but Dean's boss had been so impressed by his work that he'd kept him on for more installations, so he'd be able to see the houses finished.   
  
It seemed strange, but it was a milestone that Dean was excited to reach.   
  
They had finished early that day and Dean stepped inside Eve's currently empty house. Sam had taken to staying there with them over the past couple of months, Dean slowly convincing him to bring more stuff over. They had both all but moved in.

  
He wandered through the living room, stopping at the record player to turn on whatever album had been left there - turned out to be Fleetwood Mac's  _ Rumours _ . He then headed into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge, humming along to himself as he took a seat back in the living room.   
  
He glanced around appreciatively at the walls, which had been painted a deep green color about a month ago.   
Despite the rocky start, he felt almost  _ grateful _ to the house - a thought that made him roll his eyes at himself.   
But, if Eve hadn't moved there, he would probably still be lying to her about everything.   
This had also repaired his relationship with Sam, which had been strained ever since they'd gone back in time.   
  
Shaking his head at himself with a chuckle, he took a drink and leaned back in his seat.   
  
Behind him, he heard the familiar fluttering of angel wings and it felt like his heart had leapt into his throat.   
Maybe he was imagining things.   
  
"Dean."   
  
Castiel's low voice felt like a punch to the gut.   
  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, a sudden flood of emotion threatening to break out of him.   
  
It was a moment he had been dreading for the past year.   
It was time to return to 2010.   
  
He had never thought this type of life would satisfy him.   
He was a hunter. A drifter.   
But being here had unlocked something deep inside of him, and with it, the desire to keep this normal life he had made.   
  
"Do I have to go?" Dean asked softly, a creeping feeling of cowardice made him unable to bring himself to face Cas as he spoke.   
  
"If I thought you would be able to stay here peacefully, I would let you. They would come for you."   
  
This was the answer he had expected, but it still felt like a knife in his side. He drew in a shaky breath, looking back at Cas finally, who was watching him with a concerned face.   
  
"Okay," he said, nodding and taking a long draw from his beer before setting the bottle on the table, "let's get Sam. I have someone to say goodbye to."   
  
Going to the Dusty Bookshelf had been a blur, but one thing Dean remembered clearly was the look on Sam's face when he saw Cas.   
Relief, to go back home to something familiar.   
And shocked realization that he would be going back to the life that he, too, had always wanted to get out of.   
It made Dean's stomach lurch.   
  
After this, Sam was quiet. He had told his coworker there had been an emergency and the three of them made their way down the street to the Love Garden.   
  
Dean took a deep breath outside the door before pushing it open.   
  
Eve looked up as he stepped into the shop and she smiled widely. "Hey, baby - what are you doing here?"   
Almost immediately, the smile faltered as she noticed the solemn expression on his face and saw Sam and Castiel enter behind him.   
"Is that-is he... is it time for you to go?"   
  
"Yeah," he said softly, clearing his throat before continuing, a little stronger, "yeah, it's time for us to go."   
  
The haunting melody of Pink Floyd's  _ Welcome to the Machine _ played in the background of the otherwise empty store and Dean felt like he was sinking into the floor.   
  
"Hey, uh, Cas," Sam said, shuffling his feet a little. "Why don't we go check out some of the music over here?"   
  
"I have no need for records, Sam -"   
  
"I know you don't, but come with me anyway," he replied, already leading the angel away with a tight grip on his elbow.   
  
In another situation, Dean would've laughed at their exchange, but the humor was lost on him at the moment.   
  
"Listen, I'm not very good at goodbyes," Dean began, "but, I want you to know that you made all of this, being here, so much easier - and I don't think I could ever thank you enough for that."   
  
"I know that this is my time and everything, but you made being here easy for me too," she said, a smile beginning to form on her lips.   
  
A smile that he would never see again.   
  
He cleared his throat once more, fighting the emotions bubbling up. "I wish I could stay here with you."   
  
"I wish you could too. I'm really gonna miss you."   
  
"Come here," Dean said, motioning to himself and taking a step forward as she came from behind the counter.   
  
He hugged her tight, trying to memorize everything - the way she felt, her voice, her smell.   
  
"It's okay," she said softly, but it didn't sound convincing as her voice broke. "We both knew this was coming - nothing lasts forever, right?" A small chuckle escaped her, a sob following it immediately.   
  
Dean buried his face into her neck, fighting off any tears of his own. "I had hoped that it might anyway."   
  
"Me too," she whispered, clearing her throat. "I want to say something to you... I know I shouldn't but..." She pulled back a little, looking him in the eyes as she swallowed. "I love you."   
  
He closed his eyes as he felt the familiar sting behind them, leaning his forehead against hers. "Yeah," he whispered, "I love you too, sweetheart."   
  
She pressed a long and lingering kiss to his lips, one thumb brushing his cheek.   
  
"Be careful saving the world," she said as she pulled back, one hand smoothing the front of his jacket.   
  
He managed a small smile. "It's not really my forte, but I'll try my best."   
  
"I want your best and then some," she said, giving him a smirk, but he knew she was serious.   
  
Dean looked over his shoulder and saw Sam and Cas approaching again. He turned back to Eve and he kissed her one more time, one last time.   
  
"I guess this is it, huh?" Sam said, an uncertain and nervous laugh making its way out.   
  
Eve smiled at him and stood on her toes to wrap Sam in a tight hug, whispering a goodbye to him.   
  
He smiled too when she pulled back, squeezing her shoulder, several different emotions relaying on his face.   
Dean knew that Sam had grown fond of Eve in their time together.   
  
"Take good care of them, okay?" she said, reaching out to shake Castiel's hand, who stared at it briefly before taking it.   
  
"I will do everything in my power to keep them safe."   
  
"Thanks," she said quietly, looking to Dean again with a soft smile. "Good luck, you guys. You can do this."   
She took a deep breath and Dean could see her fighting back more tears.   
  
He glanced over at Cas before wrapping her into another hug before he could stop himself. "I love you, Eve. Please take care of yourself."   
  
"I'm so glad I met you," she whispered, squeezing him tightly and then stepping back. "Go on now, before I stop you."   
  
One corner of his lips tugged upward and he nodded, but didn't say anything else.   
  
Sam shared a look with him, one that said he wished it didn't have to be like this.   
  
They both turned to Cas, who nodded at them.   
  
Five years from that moment, Dean would still never be able to explain why he did what he did next.   
Just as Castiel reached out to transport them, Dean grabbed Eve's hand.   
  


 

=


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary:** Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978.  
**  
****Characters** : This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC  
**  
****Warnings** : Language and marijuana use for the whole story  
  
**Word Count** : 1,700  
  
**A/N** : I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete.

  
  


**_January, 2010_ ** ****_  
_ **_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_ ** ****_  
_   
  
Eve's knees buckled on impact as they landed on hard ground, back in 2010 in the middle of Bobby's salvage yard.   
  
"Hey," Dean said, immediately kneeling to assist her. "Evie? Are you okay?"   
  
"Dean, what did you do?" Sam asked, staring wide eyed at the two of them.   
  
Ignoring him, Dean helped Eve to her feet. She looked dazed and disoriented and she squeezed the bridge of her nose with her free hand, letting out a pained groan.   
  
"Dean, did you...?" She looked up at him. "Am I...?"   
  
"Welcome to the future," he said with a wry smile.  
  
She stared at him in open-mouthed disbelief for a few moments before looking all around her. "It looks, uh..."   
  
"We're at the Singer Salvage Yard - there's Bobby's house," Dean said, pointing to it across the yard.   
  
Suddenly, they were inside the house, standing in the cluttered kitchen.   
  
Eve looked around wildly. "What the hell is happening?"   
  
"Cas, you've got to quit doing that without any warning," Dean said, turning to him.   
  
This trip had weakened Castiel again - he gripped the counter behind him. But, he looked furious, blue eyes flashing, his jaw clenched hard. "Bobby is currently out, he will be home shortly. Dean, I'd like a word with you in private."   
  
"Yeah, in a minute, Cas," he replied in an offhand voice, helping Eve take a seat in a kitchen chair.   
  
" _ Now _ , Dean," he ground out through gritted teeth, not allowing his pain to distract him.   
  
Dean knew this was coming. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Fine. Sam, would you?" He looked at his brother and gestured to Eve.   
  
Sam nodded and took a seat next to her, speaking in a calm and quiet voice.   
  
Looking back up, Dean saw that Cas was already heading to the living room. He followed him, the kitchen door slamming shut behind him as soon as he passed its threshold.   
  
Cas rounded on him suddenly, his voice shaking with anger. "You have no idea what you've done."   
  
"Listen, I know you're mad," Dean said, both hands held up defensively. "I know that -"   
  
"No, you don't know, Dean!" Cas boomed, pausing to take a breath and try to regain composure. "I learned something while you were gone. The angels always had a backup plan - your brother, Adam."   
  
"Adam?" Dean repeated, confused. "Adam's dead."   
  
"That doesn't matter," Castiel said, shaking his head. "You've been dead how many times before? The point is, you are unruly and impossible to control, Zachariah knows that."   
  
"Okay," Dean said slowly, taking this information in. "So, they use Adam as Michael's vessel instead?"   
  
"No," Castiel growled out, still looking at Dean with righteous indignation. "No, not anymore. Dean, when you pulled Evelyn out of the timeline, you changed all of it."   
  
"What does any of this have to do with her?" he demanded.   
  
"It has  _ everything _ to do with her," Cas snapped loudly. "Evelyn's little sister, Kate? She was Adam's mother."   
  
Dean felt like he'd been struck by lightning. "What?"   
  
"Kate was Adam's mother," he repeated.   
  
"Wait, wait - Eve's last name is Jacobsen-"   
  
"Because that was her father's last name. And Kate had a different father. Kenneth Milligan."   
  
Dean was a little dizzy, still feeling the effects of time travel on top of the information he had just received, and he sat down in the chair to his right. "So -"   
  
" _ So _ ," Cas continued angrily, "on December 14th, 1979, Evelyn stayed with her sister at her mother's house while her parents were out of town. There was a fire, and Evelyn saved Kate, but in doing so, is trapped in the house. She dies there, Dean."   
  
"What?" he breathed out, the shock rippling through him evident on his face.  
A fire - just like another woman he had loved.  
  
"I'm sorry."   
  
Shaking his head, Dean stared at his lap for a moment before looking back up at Cas. "I don't - I didn't -"   
  
"But when you pulled her from 1979, you changed it," Cas went on, a little softer than before. "Kate died instead. Adam was never born." He paused, watching his friend carefully. "Dean, do you understand what this means?"   
  
"Yeah," Dean answered, nodding slowly. "I'm the only tux Michael can wear to prom, I get it."   
  
Cas scoffed. "I'm not sure you grasp the severity here - Dean, they will  _ never _ stop coming for you."   
  
"Can't one of us just go back and save Kate?"   
  
"It doesn't work that way. If Evelyn never dies, Kate's life is completely different and she never meets your father. It has to happen."   
  
Dean's chest was tight as he ran his hands over his face. "So, what are you saying, Cas?"   
  
"I'm saying... that she has to go back. She has to go back and fulfill her destiny there."   
  
"Her  _ destiny _ ?" Dean repeated angrily. "Don't you fucking dare talk to me about her destiny -"   
  
"Dean -"   
  
"I will  _ not _ send her back there just to die!" he thundered, slamming his fist on the coffee table in front of him.   
  
Cas stared back at him in silence for a few moments. "I know that this is difficult... "   
  
Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There has to be another way," he continued, his voice desperate. "Something,  _ anything _ . Find it."   
  
Castiel didn't answer, just watched him with a careful gaze.   
  
Dean heaved himself out of the chair without another word, walking quietly back to the kitchen, where he slid the door open softly.   
  
Sam and Eve looked like cartoon characters, both of them smashed up as close as they could get to the wall, ears pressed to it as they listened through.

  
Feeling defeated already, Dean's heart sank at the shocked looks on their faces - so much for speaking in private.   
  
"How much of that did you hear?" he asked, both of them jolting in surprise at his voice.   
  
"I'm sorry," Eve said, moving away from the wall, wringing her hands as she looked down. "We didn't - we heard yelling and got curious."   
  
"How much did you hear?" Dean repeated softly, stepping toward her, taking her face in both hands as he tilted her head up to look at him.   
  
"Enough. About Kate, about me. About you."   
  
"Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, Eve," he said, hugging her tightly.   
  
"Don't be sorry, you didn't do anything, Dean."   
  
"You mean other than dragging you thirty years into the future?"   
  
"Yes, besides that," she replied with a chuckle.   
  
Dean admired that she still had a sense of humor, even after everything she had just heard.   
  
"Don't worry, okay? We'll find something - Cas will find something."   
  
"Yeah," she said softly, sharing a knowing look with Sam over Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, I'm sure he will."   
  
"Come with me," Dean said, pulling away from her. "There are so many things I want to show you."   
  
"Maybe we should wait for Bobby?" Sam suggested lightly, and Dean looked over at him, nodding before turning back to Eve.   
  
"Yeah, okay - we'll wait for Bobby to get back, I'll introduce you and then tomorrow we'll go on a sightseeing tour of 2010, alright?"   
  
She nodded back at him, but her eyes were full of worry. She took a shaky breath and touched Dean's cheek softly before taking a step back from him. "I think I need some fresh air, excuse me, guys," she said quietly, pulling a crumpled cigarette pack from the jacket she was wearing.   
  
"Yeah, just through that door there," Dean pointed to it and she gave him a weak smile as she went through it and disappeared outside.   
  
Dean sighed and looked over at Sam with a concerned face, seeing that he was already watching him with a similar expression.   
  
"I know what you're going to say," Dean said with a sigh. "And you're right, but I just - I couldn't..."   
  
"Dean, this is bad," Sam replied, shaking his head. "What do we do?"   
  
He shrugged in response, shaking his head too. "I don't know. But, we both know we can't just send her back - Cas said December, that's not even a year from when we left. It's a death sentence, Sam. And now she knows it's coming, that's even worse."   
  
Sam pushed his hair out of his face and sighed too. He opened his mouth to speak again but they heard Cas talking in the living room and both went to investigate.   
  
"Hey, Bobby!" Sam exclaimed with a smile as they saw him wheel his way through the door.   
  
"Man, is it good to see you," Dean said with a grin, stepping over and leaning down to hug Bobby fiercely.   
  
With a chuckle, Bobby clapped Dean on the back. "Good to see you too, boy. I keep forgetting how long it was for you -  me, I saw you a couple days ago."   
  
"Yeah, it's been a while for us," Sam replied with a smile, stooping down for a hug too.   
  
"How long were you there?" Bobby asked as he made his way out of the entryway and into the kitchen.   
  
"Few months over a year," Sam answered as they followed him and he took a seat. "It was an experience, to say the least."   
  
"Well, I hope it was a relaxing one, coz we've got some work to do. I think I've got a lead on another Horseman," Bobby said, crossing his arms.   
  
"We have a bigger issue at the moment," Cas replied, casting an irritated look at Dean, who did not make eye contact.   
  
Bobby didn't miss this and glanced between the two of them. "What happened?"   
  
Dean sighed, but before he could respond, the back door opened and Eve stepped back inside. She had been looking at the ground, but lifted her head and stopped when she saw Bobby and Cas.   
  
Bobby stared at her momentarily before turning back to Dean with raised eyebrows. "I think you'd better start talking, kid."   
  


  
  
  
  


 


	9. Chapter Nine

**_January, 2010_ **

**_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_ **

 

"No, not John Lennon!” Eve cried emphatically.

“‘Fraid so, dear,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “George too.”

“Ugh, 2010 is terrible,” she replied with a chuckle.

Bobby had taken to Eve quickly - perhaps because they grew up in the same time and he could relate to her.

Eve had always joked that something about her southern accent made people like her, but Dean had noticed this to be true.

She had a low voice too, pleasant to the ears. Like her own kind of magic. 

Dean had found himself daydreaming about this as they all were gathered in the living room - he sat quietly by himself on the couch, staring into space.

Bobby and Eve were speaking about things that had happened since 1980 - something that she had not asked about in the past. She had said she didn’t want the burden of being a prophet, knowing what would happen before it did.

How ironic, that she now knew her own death date.

Sam and Cas spoke on the other side of the room in hushed voices, presumably about the impending apocalypse, something that Dean knew he should be listening to, but found himself unable to focus on currently.

Dean’s thoughts rolled around his head in turmoil. He had been agonizing over the situation for hours and had come up empty so far.

He’d allowed his mind to wander then, trying to focus on the positive things about being home. One of those things sat in front of him, talking animatedly to Eve from his wheelchair. He had certainly missed Bobby.

The fact that he was getting on so well with Eve was wonderful and not surprising, but it felt like the final twist of a knife. Dean had always hoped to have someone like her, someone who understood him, someone his family loved. 

This sinking feeling that she would soon be gone was one he couldn’t shake.

As he watched her now, he could tell that Eve was wearing her brave face. She smiled at whatever story Bobby was telling her, and Dean noticed her fingers pulling loose threads from her jacket. One of her legs was crossed over the other, one ankle bouncing up and down. These were both of her nervous tics. 

She knew too. She knew that she would die - she knew when, where, and how and it made him sick.

How could he let her go back to that?

Deep within him, he knew there would be no “letting” her do anything - she would do what she chose to and that would be the end of it. It was a quality that he loved about her, even now.

He could tell she wanted to excuse herself, to be alone to process everything, but was too polite to do so. 

Moving for the first time in over an hour, Dean pushed himself off of the couch. He took a few steps over to stand behind Eve, gripping both of her shoulders lightly. She leaned back to look up at him with a crooked smile, covering one of his hands with her own.

“Hey Bobby, sorry to interrupt - can I borrow Eve for a minute?”

“Sure thing - time for me to refresh my drink anyway,” Bobby replied, shaking his empty beer bottle.

Dean led the way through the front door, Eve giving a small sigh as they stepped outside. “Doing alright?” he asked.

"Perfect timing,” she said with a slight laugh. “You know me so well.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face only for a moment. “I know.”

She stared back at him, reaching up to squeeze his arm but saying nothing for the moment. She lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. “I really like Bobby. I can tell he had a hand with you - a lot of the same mannerisms.” She smiled as she thought on it more.

“He’s always been like a father to me,” he said softly. He scuffed the ground with one boot and watched her silently for a moment before clearing his throat. “Would you like to be alone?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly with a shrug. She gazed at the ground. “Yes and no. I have a lot rattling around in my head, but… ” she paused and looked over at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “But, I know I don’t have much time left with you.”

“Oh, Evie…” He wanted to say so much more than this, but the words caught in his throat and nothing else came. Instead, he took a step toward her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. A sob that she had been holding in escaped her, something she had been trying to prevent all day. “It’s okay,” he whispered, knowing that it wasn’t. “I love you, Eve. It’s okay.”

 

________

 

After Eve had composed herself she seemed to be feeling a little better, and the two of them made their way back inside.

They bullshitted with Bobby for a few more hours before he went off to bed - bringing out a stack of blankets for them, he made a comment about them being adults, so they could figure out their own sleeping arrangements. Cas and Sam had remained deep in conversation for most of the evening, Sam breaking off and looking exhausted long after Bobby had gone to bed.

“Where’s Eve?” he asked and Dean shrugged.

“She might have gone up to the spare room, I haven’t seen her for about thirty minutes. I think she wants to be alone.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Sam replied. He stared at Dean for a moment, clearly wanting to say something comforting to him, but settled for a clap on the shoulder. “I’m gonna shower and try to get some sleep.”

Dean nodded, but said nothing as Sam disappeared up the stairs.

Cas sat alone in the living room now, occupying a large armchair and gestured for Dean to sit in the empty one next to him.

Surprised he was able to put it off this long, Dean obliged and took a seat. After several moments of silence, he cocked his head at Cas. “What happened to you in ‘78, anyway?” Dean asked, leaning forward in his chair. “One minute, you’re there, the next - poof.”

Cas shook his head, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I’m still uncertain. Everything went dark and then I was here.” He cleared his throat, his hands clasped in front of him as he sat with his elbows on his knees - a very human stance. “Listen, Dean, I know you probably don’t want to talk about Evelyn, but we have to.”

Dean nodded slowly, squeezing his temples with one hand. He glanced around to make sure the room was empty before he spoke. “I’ve been thinking about it and - isn’t this kind of a good thing? Without Adam, both of their game pieces are off the board.“

"But, you’re not. You’re not off the board, you’re right here,” Cas said pointedly. “We can only hide for so long, I think you know that.”

Dean stared at him carefully, trying to come up with anything for an argument. “Isn’t this a guarantee that Michael will have a vessel? Isn’t that what we were trying to prevent?”

“Yes, but we need the heat taken off of you - if they take Adam, they have what they want, leaving us time to find and kill the devil.”

“If Michael has a vessel, what’s to stop Lucifer from starting this now?”

“Lucifer will wait for Sam.”

“So, basically you’re asking Eve to sacrifice her life to buy us time?” Dean asked incredulously, watching Castiel with disbelief.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. You know it’s not that simple, Dean,” Cas replied roughly. “And I’m not asking her to do anything, I’m asking you to fix the mess you made. You did this.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. He knew that Cas was right, but the matter-of-fact tone he was using pissed Dean off. “So, I have to convince her that this is right?”

“It _is_ right, it’s history. And I don’t think you’ll have to convince her. You know her better than I do, what do you think she’ll decide?”

Choosing to ignore the question, Dean crossed his arms. “Just because something is history doesn’t make it right.”

“Maybe not, but this time, it is.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Dean spat, looking at the ground now.

“Believe what you want. You changed the past, so you can fix it or deal with the consequences. But, you’re kidding yourself if you think your voice is the only one that matters here,” Cas said, and Dean looked up at him again. “Evelyn will make this decision herself and you know it. Regardless of your opinion on it.”

He wanted to throw the beer bottle in his hand at Cas’ head, but he knew full well that he was right about this.

“I’m gonna get some air,” Dean said, standing suddenly.

“I will go and see if there’s anything else that can be done about this - but, please don’t get your hopes up.”

Dean didn’t answer him, only nodded as he walked out the back door. He took a deep breath of cold air once he was outside, and with a frustrated cry he hurled the bottle across the yard. It shattered against the hood of a broken down Ford, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

Muttering to himself, he turned around and froze when he saw Eve had been sitting just outside the door and had watched this.

“You okay?” she asked tentatively, knowing the answer.

He thought about lying, telling her he was fine. “No,” he answered honestly, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

“Me either,” she replied softly, offering him a half smile that tore at his heart.

He walked over and took a seat on the ground next to her. “I don’t know if we can fix this. And I’m, just - I’m so sorry for all of it.”

She shook her head. “Please, stop apologizing - it’s better that I know, now I can take care of everything I need to back home before I… ” she stopped and swallowed, unable to say the words.

“There may be something we can do, Cas is out trying to find out right now.”

She considered this, nodding. She was fiddling with something in her hands.

“Whatcha got?” Dean asked, gesturing.

She showed him the little iPod and chuckled. “Sam gave it to me, he thought listening to some music might help me feel better.”

“Did it?“

"A little,” she said with a shrug. “This thing is amazing, though - how do they fit all the songs in here?”

Dean smiled and shook his head. “I’m not sure I fully understand it myself. Technology is crazy.”

“I know, I saw your phones, Sam’s computer… I bet things are very different.”

“We’ll go out tomorrow and see it, okay?” Dean suggested gently, taking one of her hands.

“Sure,” she said, nodding. She was quiet for a moment before clearing her throat. “So, how long are we gonna pretend that I’m staying here?”

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again, shaking his head. He didn’t know what to say, so instead he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “For a little while longer,“ he finally replied.

 

_______

 

 Cas was back early the next morning and the expression on his face made it clear that he didn’t bring good news with him.

Sam, Eve, and even Bobby were still asleep, leading the two of them outside to have their conversation in hushed voices.

“I just can’t see any way around it,” Cas said, the regret clear on his face. “We’ve got no other options.”

Hesitantly, Dean nodded. He had expected this, had prepared for it, but still found himself rebelling against it. “How much time do we have?”

Cas gave him a look that made it clear he was trying not to lose his temper and he shrugged. “None, Dean.”

“None?”

“We were out of time when you and Sam went back to 1979. Now? There is even _less_ time and even _more_ to deal with.”

“Quit dancing around the answer and just tell me,” Dean replied sharply. “When do we have to send her back?”

“ _Now_ , Dean! She has no time left - we have no time.”

Dean crossed his arms and stared back at Cas defiantly. “I need a couple days.”

“Unbelievable - did you hear what I just said?”

Dean said nothing as he continued to stand his ground and Cas shook his head.

"Do you not understand that we’re on a clock here?”

“No, I get that, believe me - I’m just asking for a little leeway.”

“Doesn’t it seem a little trivial in the light of everything that’s happening?”

“Trivial?” Dean repeated, eyes narrowing. He scoffed. “Yeah, I suppose it would seem _trivial_ to you - Castiel, angel of the Lord. But, for the _mortal_ _peasants_ like me,” he spat these words and Cas knew that he had struck a nerve, “it’s pretty goddamn important.”

“Dean -”

“I’m asking for two days - that’s it. Today and tomorrow. You can’t give that to her? To me?” Castiel was studying him carefully, but as he began to reply, Dean cut him off. “If anything but ‘okay’ is about to come out of your mouth, just save it. And you know what, if you can’t give me two fucking days with this woman, then you don’t get to pretend like I mean shit to you anymore, you got that?”

Cas watched him with a piercing gaze, considering his words before heaving a sigh. “Alright, Dean. You have two days, but on that third day-”

“I will let her go. And I won’t argue with you, but I will be damned if I don’t show her a good time before we send her back.”

Cas nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that it has to be this way, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he replied, chewing on the inside of his lip, “Me too.”

After Cas had left, Dean returned inside to find Sam in the kitchen making coffee.

“Mornin’,” Dean said, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” Sam replied, looking over at him as he pressed the brew button. “What’s the word? I thought I heard Cas.”

"Yeah, you did,” Dean said as he leaned against the counter. “In a nutshell, we’re out of time. There’s nothing else.”

Sam’s eyebrows were furrowed as he nodded, casting his gaze down. “It’s what we expected.”

“Doesn’t make it suck any less,” he replied.

“No, it doesn’t,” Sam said quietly.

“How many days were you able to stall for?” Eve’s voice came from the entryway to the living room, and both brothers turned to the sound. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to listen, I just smelled the coffee,” she said, gesturing to the pot.

“Two,” Dean replied, giving her a half smile. “Today and tomorrow.” She nodded and he added, “Good morning.”

“You too,” she said, stepping further inside the kitchen.

Sam handed her and Dean full mugs before picking one up for himself.

“You guys have anything fun planned for today?” Sam asked.

"I might have some good stuff on the agenda,” Dean replied, smirking as he shrugged. “Plus, she’s easily impressed.”

“That’s true,” she confirmed with a nod. “I’m also really excited to see what everything is like, so he won’t have to try very hard anyway.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “Sounds ideal for Dean,” he said with a grin.

Dean gave him an unimpressed look in return. 

 

_____

 

After they all had coffee and breakfast, Dean made his way outside and saw Eve laying on the hood of one of the burned-out cars, staring at the sky.

He smiled to himself and hopped up next to her. “I want to make a deal with you,” he said, prompting a tilt of the head from Eve as she sat up to listen. “We’ve got the two days - it’s not long, but it’s the best I could do. You and I are gonna go do and see whatever you like today and tomorrow - but, I don’t want to talk about you leaving, okay? Not one mention of it until that third day, and then we can have the conversations we don’t want to have and deal with all of this. I know we’ll be thinking about it. But, I want these two days to be about you and I. Can you do that?”

“I can,” she answered, nodding. “Can you?”

“I -” he hesitated, giving her a knowing look as he sighed, “I hope so.”

A loud _snap!_ caught their attention and they turned to see Sam standing near them with an old Polaroid camera, laughing as he gestured to it. “Look what I found!” he said, grinning. He snapped another.

“That’s not still what you use for photos, is it?” Eve asked, looking from Sam back to Dean with a laugh.

“Nah, most people just use their phone.”

“You what?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Show her, Sam,” Dean said with a chuckle.

Eve stood and stepped over to Sam quickly, eager to see the new technology. He showed her the camera lense on the back of the phone before turning it over and opening the camera application.

He pushed the button to take a picture. “See? These new phones are like phones, computers, and cameras combined.”

“Get out of here,” she muttered as he handed it to her.

She aimed the camera at him and pressed the button several times, her face lighting up when the photos appeared on the screen. 

Her smiled slowly dropped and she chewed on her bottom lip. “I wish I could take these pictures with me.”

She reached briefly for Sam’s hand, squeezing his fingers in hers before letting go. Eve handed him back his phone and he nodded solemnly in response before smiling and holding the Polaroid up, pointing it at himself.

“Here,” he said, turning Eve by her shoulder to look at it too. “Say cheese!”

She laughed as Sam took the picture and as it printed out, he handed it to her. “Take this one too,” he said softly, slipping one he had just taken of her and Dean in her hand as well.

“Thanks, Sam,” she whispered, looking down at them. She slid them in her coat pocket and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck in a hug. “For everything.”

He did the same, sharing a sorrowful glance with Dean, who broke eye contact to look at the ground a moment later.

When she stepped back, Sam was trying to keep his emotions in check as he cleared his throat. “Well, I just wanted to - you know, say goodbye before you guys left. I wasn’t sure if I would see you again or…” he trailed off, and Dean gazed at the rocks on the ground again, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Eve nodded. “Good luck - I know you guys can do this.”

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his breath hitching in his throat as he suddenly embraced Eve again. “I’m so sorry this is happening.”

“I could say the same to you,” she replied with a sad laugh. “I mean it, you guys can save the world, I know you can.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, pulling back with a sigh. He looked over at Dean, who was watching them with a miserable expression. “Have a great time, you two. I’ll see you in a few days, Dean.”

Dean nodded, but found he was unable to offer Sam the halfhearted smile he wanted to. “Thanks, Sammy.”

As Sam walked away, Dean heaved himself off of the car and clapped his hands together once. “Alright, lady - you and me are outta here.”

"Oh, yeah?” Eve asked with a laugh. “Whisking me off from the greatest junkyard this side of the Mississippi?”

“You better watch what you say about this junkyard - it’s Bobby’s pride and joy.”

She feigned surprise, holding a hand to her chest. “Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said in an even more exaggerated southern accent.

Dean snorted and shook his head, gesturing to the Impala. “Get in, you.”

She smirked and followed him over to the car, circling it before walking to the passenger side. “So, this is the old girl I heard so much about?”

“Sure is - this one’s _my_ pride and joy,” he replied as they both slid inside. “We’re not going far - just the other side of the city.”


	10. Chapter Ten

**_January, 2010_ **

**_Sioux Falls, South Dakota_ **

  
Dean pulled the Impala into a parking lot adjacent to a giant music store - the largest in South Dakota, though he wasn’t sure this was a difficult thing to accomplish.

He’d done a little research on this place and they boasted the largest record and cassette selection for several states.

Music is what they had bonded over in the first place, and he knew it was important to her - and this was the only way she would ever get to hear what it would be like.

  
Her face had lit up when she saw where they were and she was out of the car before it was fully in park.

  
Chuckling to himself, Dean quickly climbed out too, hot on her heels as she walked toward the store.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this,” he said playfully and she shook her head.

  
“I know, but I’m excited!”

  
As they approached the entrance, the motion sensors on the doors caused them to slide open to greet them.

  
Eve stopped dead in her tracks and then took several steps backwards. “What the hell?”

Dean laughed and reached back for her hand. “There are sensors in the doors that detect motion - they could tell we were in front of them, so they opened.”

  
“‘They could _tell_ ’?” she repeated, dumbstruck as he led her inside. “How does it know?”

  
Dean shook his head and chuckled some more. “I am not your guy for this conversation.”

As they walked inside, Dean nodded appreciatively - they had not exaggerated, this place was enormous. Rows upon rows of CDs were in front of them, and Dean could see separate sections in the distance for vinyls and tapes.

  
Eve stared at all of it, then looked back at Dean, silently asking permission to break loose and explore. He tilted his head toward the displays with a smile and immediately she was strolling through the aisles.

  
After a moment, her curiosity took a front seat and she opened one of the CD cases.

  
“Look, Dean - they’re like little shiny records!” she cried louder than she meant to.

  
A few people glanced over at her, and while her face turned a little red and she lowered her voice, there was a magic in this moment that couldn’t be spoiled for her.

  
“Is this Cher?!“ she exclaimed, holding up a CD with her picture on the cover. “Oh my God, it is! She looks amazing!”

  
Dean’s grin was fixed on his face as he watched her, flustered and excited while she looked through the CDs.

  
“Here,” he said, moving to stand next to her and picking up the headphones that sat in front of them, sliding them over her ears. “Pick one.”

  
She plucked one randomly out of the row and handed it to him. He slid the barcode through a scanner and the album began to play.

  
“What?!” she exclaimed. “Get out of town - how did you do that?”

  
He laughed and shrugged. “Magic!”

He grabbed another CD to show her again and her eyes got wider.

“Dean, we’re gonna be here all day.”

  
“I had a feeling we might.”

 

_____

  
  
“This is amazing, Dean!” Eve was clutching two of U2’s albums, _The Joshua Tree_ in one hand and _War_ in the other.

  
It was several hours later and Dean had enjoyed every second of it. He had hesitated briefly before telling her that she should bring some of it back with her, something she had seemed ecstatic about.

  
Once she had carefully chosen which ones she wanted, they headed to the check out. Eve had noticed that Dean had grabbed one himself.

  
“Paul McCartney, huh?” Eve asked, nudging him in the ribs with a smirk.

  
“Yeah, what can I say? He’s grown on me.” His fingers clutched the tape deck tightly in his hand. This was true, but this particular album would remind him of her when she was gone. In 1979, Eve’s copy of this album was well worn, the record sleeve had fallen apart and been taped back together.

  
She “ _hmm_ "ed as she watched him fondly and nodded. After paying, they made their way out of the building.

  
"Make sure you keep those hidden,” Dean said, gesturing to the bag of cassettes in her hand. “Don’t show them to anyone, those are just for you. May want to destroy them before you…” He stopped walking and trailed off as she nodded. The sentence would remain unfinished but understood.

He stared at her for a moment, lost in thought and she cleared her throat. “You ready to get some dinner?” 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, snapping out of it quickly. “Yes, let’s do that.”

  
After a large meal, they both decided to go back and veg out at the room they had rented.

  
Dean turned the music down as he turned into the parking lot for the motel.  
“Okay, so, I’ve got one more thing to wrap up the night for us. In the 80’s, Pink Floyd released a kind of visual album - a movie with music from their record _The Wall_.”

  
“Ooh, is it trippy and bizarre?” Eve asked, sitting up with interest.

  
“Those are exactly the words I would use to describe it, yes.”

He pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. He turned to look at her with a sheepish grin. “I also - and I’m not proud of this - bought weed from a kid at the record store, so we’re about to get all kinds of weird in here.”

  
Eve laughed loudly, and clapped her hands together. “Perfect! What a degenerate you’ve become.”

  
“Yes, well, I like to impress. Plus, this’ll probably be the last of it I smoke for a while - you get in way more trouble for it now.”

  
“Better make it count then,” she replied with a chuckle. “Shall we?”

 

_____

 

  
The next day had been spent exploring everywhere and anywhere - Dean had taken her to see all the things he deemed noteworthy and capped the day off at the Apple Store just to really blow her mind.

  
The sun was sinking as they got back to the hotel and Eve had been particularly quiet for the past hour or so.

  
Dean watched her carefully, waiting for her to start talking about leaving, even though they’d both promised they wouldn’t.

  
She turned and caught his gaze on her, smiling slightly as she sat at the foot of the bed.  
“What’s it like?” she whispered, staring at the ground. “Dying?”

  
Dean sighed softly and moved to sit next to her on the bed. He had expected this too. “Honestly, the only death I really remember was the one that sent me to hell - something that won’t be happening to you,” he said, giving her a serious glance, reassuring her. “But, from what I understand about heaven, it’s a lot like your life already was. Your greatest hits, things you always wanted to do…”

  
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” she said after a moment, a weak smile on her face.

  
“No,” he replied quietly. “No, it doesn’t.”

  
She looked up at him briefly before casting her gaze down again. “You’re going to say something stupid now, aren’t you?”

  
“Yes,” he replied honestly. “Are you _sure_ about this?”

  
“I am.”

  
“Like, really sure?”

  
“Dean.”

  
“I’m just not convinced you know what this means -”

  
“I know what it means, Dean. It means my life for my sister’s - for yours. If I stayed, I might be saving her from a life full of heartbreak, but at least it was a life! If that’s the way things were supposed to be, why should we get to change it? It doesn’t seem fair.“ She stood then, arms wrapped tightly around herself as she moved to look out the window.

  
"Oh, that’s the unfair part?”

  
“Nothing about this is fair - that, I’ll give you. But you know what I mean.”

  
“Evie,” he said, standing and walking toward her, “we could go back and save Kate - you could stay too, we can figure this out.”

“Dean, you’re dealing in ‘maybes’ now. There is no time - there is no other way,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “You know that I want nothing else but to stay here.”

  
He reached out for her arm. “Eve, please just listen-”

  
“No, _you_ listen!” she spoke angrily, turning around quickly. “This is my choice to make and no one else’s, understand?”

  
He stared back at her, a heat rising in his chest as he fought himself against arguing with her.

Her expression immediately softened and her voice was gentle when she spoke again. “Listen - Dean, there is nothing that I would love more than staying here, staying with you… but we both know that I can’t.“ She took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed again, pulling him down to do the same. “This is big - huge, giant. It’s the apocalypse, Dean. I’ve got a part to play in this - and while it’s not exactly what I’d hoped, it has to be done. This is much bigger than you and me, even though it may not feel that way right now.”

  
He nodded, drawing a sharp breath. “I know,” he said softly. “I know, you’re right. I just…”

  
She nodded too, understanding exactly what he meant. "I know our time together has been brief. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a year, but I… I just want you to know that I think this really could’ve been it, you know? That soulmate, fairy tale shit.”

A small chuckle rumbled from his chest and he nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said softly, patting her knee a couple of times before giving it a squeeze. “I felt the fairy tale shit too.”

  
“Good,” she breathed out, hooking her fingers through his.

  
“If we’re confessing here, then I need you to know - I will love you long after you’re gone.”

  
She made a noise in the back of her throat before turning toward him again, her lips colliding with his.

  
Dean reacted instantly, one hand snaking around her back as the other slid up into her hair, holding her closer to him.He then suddenly spun and pinned her beneath him on the bed while she let out a surprised laugh.

  
“I mean it,” he said, face hovering above hers as his eyes flitted back and forth into her own.

  
“I know you do,” she replied, staring back up at him. “I will too.”

  
He leaned in to kiss her again, a booming laugh of his own escaping him as she grabbed one of his wrists and pushed hard - Dean found himself flipped onto his back as she grinned down at him.   
She settled her torso over his, elbows propping her up on either side of him.

  
She pressed her lips to his, still wearing the grin as she whispered against them, “Always stay on your toes, Winchester.”

 

_____

  
  
The sunshine streaming through the thin motel curtains and into Dean’s face woke him the next morning.

  
He ran his outstretched fingers across the sheets to discover the bed was empty next to him. He was alone.

  
The dread kicked in and his chest felt tight as his eyes scanned the room, landing on a piece of paper with his name on it sitting on the nightstand. Eve’s flattened marble necklace lay on top of it.

  
He sat up on his knees, leaning forward to grab the letter and necklace with a shaky hand. He wrapped the chain around his fingers and slowly unfolded the paper.

  
“ _I’m so sorry that we didn’t really get to say goodbye - I know that this needs to be done and I was afraid that you and that face of yours would talk me out of it._

_  
I will miss and love you every day that I have left on earth - and hey, since heaven is real and I’m not too terrible, maybe I’ll be able to miss and love you from up there too!_

_Are you smiling? I hope so._

  
_Please don’t blame yourself - I know you will, but this isn’t on you. This was the only way. I had to._

_Be a hero and save the world - then I want you to save yourself. Go do something for you, because you deserve to be happy, Dean._

_  
I’m so glad that you got a flat tire that day. Thank you for everything - you were the best adventure._

_  
Always,_

_Eve”_

  
Hot tears blurred his vision and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. 

She was really gone.

  
Dean sat frozen and cross-legged on the mattress for minutes that felt like hours. He drew a shaky breath and finally heaved himself off of the bed. He dressed and pulled his boots on without a sound, refolding the note and sliding it, along with the necklace, into his back pocket.

  
He said nothing to the clerk at the counter as he slapped the door key down, pulling the collar of his jacket up as he stepped outside.

The Impala roared to life as he began the trip back across town, everything swimming around him. 

He didn’t even remember the drive when he found himself sitting parked in front of Bobby’s, staring at his lap.

  
His legs felt like jello as he stood on them, his body numb as he began to walk toward the house.  
He opened the front door, noticing Sam seated to his right, drinking coffee in an armchair.

Sam cocked his head slightly when Dean didn’t acknowledge him and instead walked right past him to Cas.

"You sent her back without me?” Dean asked evenly.

  
Castiel sighed, shoulders slumping immediately. “She insisted. I’m sorry, Dean.”

  
“I should have known she would,” he said quietly, staring at the ground. “She’s there now?”

  
“She is.”

  
Dean looked up at Cas briefly and nodded. “And everything is… ?”

  
“Back to the way it was? Yes.”

  
“Okay,” Dean replied. “Good, I guess… ”

  
“Would you like to forget?” Castiel asked suddenly, his eyes locking with Dean’s. He looked truly upset, clearly bothered by the pain that had been caused. “I can make you forget all of it.”

  
Dean held his breath and stared back at Cas, his heart racing as he considered it. He felt a chill run up his spine at the idea, his stomach twisting as he shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “No, I need to remember.”

  
“Dean,” Sam spoke for the first time. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  
“No.”

  
“Dean -”

  
“Can you stop the apocalypse?” Dean asked bluntly as he turned to look at Sam, who sighed and hung his head. “There’s nothing you can do, Sam. I appreciate your gesture.”

  
“Sam?” Bobby called from the kitchen, his voice getting closer as he entered the room. “You ain’t gonna believe this, but I think I’ve got a lead on Famine -” He had been looking at some papers in his lap but glanced up at the immediate tension he felt. “Oh.”

  
“Hey, Bobby,” Dean said in his best normal voice. “Where is he?”

“It can wait,” Bobby tried to dismiss it and shook his head. “I’m sorry, boy - I wish like hell it didn’t have to be this way.”

  
Dean stared back at Bobby, torn. Between telling him about the crushing emptiness he felt, and pretending to be fine.He cleared his throat, dragging his teeth on his lower lip. “Me too,” he replied. “But, it’s done. Where’s Famine?”

  
“Dean,” Sam said in a pressing voice, “you don’t have to do this.”

  
“No, Sam - I _do_ have to do this,” Dean said pointedly, looking over at him again. “Doing this is the whole reason we had to send her back.”

  
“I just meant,” Sam paused, taking a breath. “I meant that you don’t have to do this _today_. Right now.”

  
Dean turned back to Bobby. “Well?”

 

_____

  
  
After getting the information from Bobby, Cas left, mentioning that he was going to try and find Adam before Zachariah.

  
The brothers bid Bobby farewell also, barely making it out the door before Dean felt Sam’s stare boring into the back of his head.

  
“I don’t wanna talk, Sam,” he said as they began to cross the junkyard.

  
"I know you don’t. But, you should.”

  
“Sam -”

  
“Dean -”

  
“Fine, you wanna know how I feel?” Dean spoke loudly as he stopped walking and turned to his brother. “I feel terrible. Fucking awful.”

  
Sam chewed on his bottom lip as he watched Dean with a understanding gaze. “And?” he asked quietly.

  
“And, I can’t believe how… crushed I feel. I mean, this is crazy, right? Fully unhinged crazy. I expected to feel upset, pissed as hell, but this?” He let out a sigh and shook his head several times. “I should’ve listened to you. Should’ve never asked her out, never done any of this. It was never going to end well, but I was too goddamn selfish to let that stop me.”

  
“Maybe so, but let me ask you something - if you were back there again, with a blown tire on Highway 30, would you get in her car? Would you do all of it again?”

"Yes,” Dean whispered almost instantly. “I’d do it all again. I think that’s the worst part. I’d ruin her life for a year of her time.”

  
"Listen, I know you’re trying to minimize the way you feel, but you shouldn’t,” Sam said, giving him a knowing half-smile. “Feel this, Dean - feel all of it. Angry, sad, heartbroken, empty. I’ve been torn up over women I’d known for a lot less time than a year, and women I’d known longer. Losing someone you love is painful. It’s all the same, Dean.”

Dean stared back at him, nodding slowly, but saying nothing in return.

They resumed their walk to the Impala, climbing in silently.  
He started the car, the radio coming on with it. The DJ finished talking and he felt like he was going to be sick when he heard the slow guitar intro to _Wish You Were Here._

  
He leaned his head back on the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. Sucking in a deep breath, he looked slowly over at Sam, who was watching him with a pained expression.

  
“I know,” Sam said barely above a whisper. He reached out to switch the radio off, but Dean quickly grabbed his wrist.

  
“Don’t.”

  
Sam instead gripped his brother’s shoulder tightly. “She didn’t want you to have to make this decision, Dean. She did it to save us. She knows what’s at stake. What we have to do.”

  
The blue marble from her necklace, now attached to his keychain, dangled from the ignition, sunlight sparkling off of it.

  
Dean swallowed thickly, letting out a breath with a heavy exhale. He turned the radio louder as he shifted the Impala into drive. “Then let’s go do it.“


	11. Epilogue

_**March, 2017** _

_**Cedar, Kansas** _

  
Sunlight danced off of the Impala’s chrome as the breeze whipped through the open windows, the collar of Dean’s shirt flapping wildly.

  
With one hand on the steering wheel and the other arm hanging out of the window, he raced a good amount over the speed limit down an empty two-lane highway back to Lebanon.

  
His life had taken many twists and turns, with more downs than ups. But, when he was alone like this, driving fast with the windows down and the music up, he remembered what it felt like when he lived in 70’s - by far the simplest time in his life.

Remembered what it felt like to be happy.

To be relatively care free.

To be with her.

  
He glanced over at his empty passenger seat, a small smile creeping on his face - seven years later and still, he could almost see her sitting there. Singing along loudly with him, a bright enthusiastic grin on her face.

  
Moments like this had become rarer as time passed, and he had moved on, but never completely.

A piece of him would always remain in 1979 where he had left it.

  
He often wondered what Eve would think of the person he’d become. It was probably better that she never knew.

  
Dean had been through a lot since then, but finally, starting with the return of his mother by Amara, things were starting to look up again. He didn’t dare get too comfortable, as this was always a sure sign that his life would take a nosedive any time now.

  
Lost in thought, he almost didn’t see the huddled heap on the ground off to the side of the road, but he spotted it from the corner of his eye.

  
Straining his eyes to see what it was, he thought he made out a human shape under some kind of tarp, and he slammed his foot onto the break.

  
As the Impala squealed to a stop, Dean cautiously grabbed his pistol, cocking the hammer back as he swung his door open.

  
Now that he was closer, he could see that what he thought was a tarp was a large and well worn coat. He slowly stepped toward it, gun held out in front of him.

“Hey,” he called, “you okay?”

  
The jacket rustled around but no answer came, so Dean reached out quickly, snatching it up and away, weapon still angled and ready.

  
A woman was underneath, crouched down, arms protectively curled around her neck and head. When Dean had removed the coat, she let out a startled cry.

“Please,” she sobbed, shaking her head as she continued to face the ground, “please, I think I need some help. I-I don’t know what’s happening.” 

She looked up at him then, over the barrel of his gun, but he didn’t need her to - he recognized her voice as soon as it left her lips.

His arm fell to his side in shock immediately, pistol clattering to the ground. He froze, holding his breath.

“Eve?”

 

__________

  
_Stay tuned for the sequel **Into the Mystic...**_


End file.
